


Closed

by WhoInWhoville



Series: ClosedVerse [1]
Category: Broadchurch, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, Angst, Canon Divergence, Crime, Depression, F/M, Mental Health Issues, Moving On, Not a Reunion, PTSD, Romance, UA, Violence, broadwho, dimension cannon failure, discussions of domestic abuse, no journey's end, no possible reunion with the doctor, non-graphic major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:57:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 109,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5475356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoInWhoville/pseuds/WhoInWhoville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The breach between universes is permanently closed. After a horrific accident, Rose Tyler decides to re-create herself. Broadchurch is as good a place as any to start afresh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Hello all. I wrote this story in 2013, but I took it down in September of 2015. I have decided to re-post it._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  **Rose and the Doctor are not reunited in this story.** There are recollections of the Doctor, but I wanted to explore this scenario: what if the Dimension Canon project failed, and how would Rose react to the loss of her Doctor? 
> 
> There is a major character death in Chapter One. It is only mentioned, not described. Again, Rose does not successfully find the Doctor. There is no Journey's End. The walls between the universes are truly sealed, locking her in Pete's World permanently.
> 
> Additionally, I wrote this story before the broadcast of the second season of _Broadchurch_. It is not canon compliant beyond season one.
> 
> The work is rated Mature for adult themes, mild language, and eventual intimacy. 
> 
> The original story was beta-read by aintfraidanoghosts, bittie752, helplesslynerdy, kelkat9, and kilodalton/strangecharmed. THANK YOU LADIES! You were instrumental to the success of this story.
> 
> I have made some minor changes and corrected a few typos and grammar issues. It has not been beta-read since it was originally posted.

With eyes closed, and head bowed, Pete Tyler sat in a hard plastic chair in the corridor of the Naval Military Treatment Facility in Greenwich, located in the regal -- and former -- Royal Naval War College facility on the shores of the Thames.

He opened his eyes, and stared at the picture on his mobile. This was his second-chance family: Jackie, Rose, and little Tony. He saw himself, his wife, and his adopted daughter standing behind a grinning Tony Tyler, who was readying himself to blow out three candles on his birthday cake. 

Pete had snapped the picture just a few weeks before. The day had been a happy oasis in the middle of a sea of worry; the stars were disappearing, the Darkness was advancing exponentially. And then the weather changes had begun; the first time the cracks between universes had appeared...global warming. This time, violent storms were ravaging the world.

One hour had passed since The Incident, and he still hadn’t called Jackie. He knew he couldn’t put it off any longer.

"Jacks, there has been an...accident. Rose has been hurt." Pete knew that something in his voice told Jackie that this time was different, because his wife said nothing in reply. She must have known that this was not just another one of the numerous sprains, strains, split lips, broken fingers or concussions that Rose had sustained during her days and nights defending the Earth.

"I've sent Jake to pick you up. He should be there in a few minutes."

oOo

"Oh God! Rose!" Jackie Tyler choked out the words as she looked through glass which separated mother from daughter. The glass was cold under her fingertips as she pressed her palms to the window, unable to speak.

Rose was motionless, save the artificially induced rise and fall of her chest. She had been put into a medically induced coma to allow her body and brain to heal from the obviously extreme trauma.

A blue sheet was draped over her torso and legs. Her arms were arranged unnaturally straight by her sides. Two intravenous lines led to numerous bags of fluid, one on the back of her hand, and the second, near her heart. Her eyes were covered with white gauze, taped shut. The skin on her face, neck, and hands was an angry shade of red, glistening from the healing ointment used for second degree burns. A tube down her throat controlled her respiration. Her dark blonde hair was frizzy and uneven, like the worst haircut after the worst perm. Bare patches on her scalp were visible where hair had been singed completely away; in other spots, the hair had been clipped to better expose lacerations and wounds, which were sutured and mended with butterfly bandages.

The flat screen monitor hanging on the wall visually indicated just how serious her condition was. Her heart rate was sluggish and erratic. Brain wave activity was nearly flat, as were muscle and eye movements.

Pete pulled Jackie into his side, and she turned into him, burying her face into his chest.

"I knew it would end this way. That bloody alien!" Jackie managed to say, though it was muffled and nearly unintelligible through her racking sobs.

oOo

Seven days after The Incident, Rose's condition had neither improved nor worsened. Jackie and Pete still remained by her side both day and night, taking turns resting so that she was never alone. But on day eight, Rose's brain activity increased -- a very good sign. Jackie and Pete smiled for the first time since the morning of The Incident.

Pete's sister, Beatrice, had driven from her home in Kent to care for Tony, and she brought the lad to the hospital to visit his mom and dad. They did not bring him to Rose's room, even though he cried for his big sister, missing her very much.

Jake Simmonds was managing the daily Torchwood operations, and reporting electronically to Pete. There had been only one team sent out on a mission since the The Incident, and they had returned to Torchwood soon after being dispatched. The alleged zombie that was terrorizing Cheswick had turned out to be a feral cat on the prowl.

Every day at four o'clock, Dr. Harper provided an update on Rose's condition, and each report had been the same. Guarded hope for a partial recovery was offered, and then came the gentle reminder that Rose's injuries had been extensive, and patience was required. Her memory and personality might be altered, and she would require physical therapy to regain the muscle tone which would be lost to the coma.

oOo

By day fifteen, while Rose remained in the coma, it was no longer medically induced. If her body and mind were ready to return, there was nothing to stop that from happening.

Pete had resumed management of Torchwood. Funerals had been conducted for those who were lost, and posthumous honours had been awarded. Now that life support had been removed, and it looked like she was simply sleeping, Tony was allowed to visit his sister.

Jackie was no longer staying at the hospital nearly twenty-four hours a day. However, most of her waking hours were spent sitting in Rose's room watching television, reading magazines or books, or surfing the Internet on the new laptop that Pete had bought for her. She brushed what was left of Rose's hair, rubbed her feet and legs like the physical therapist had taught her and talked to her daughter. Every night, Pete brought trays up from the hospital cafeteria and they ate together. He told Rose the events of the day, both good and bad.

The days were tedious, but Jackie did not want Rose to awaken from the coma, alone and afraid.

oOo

"She was removed from the respirator almost a week ago now. So glad that bloody tube is gone." Jackie pressed her pink, crystal-encased mobile to her ear as she spoke to Pete's sister, Beatrice. "You bringing Tony down later? When he touched her yesterday, she moved her fingers. She hears us Bea, I just know it."

Jackie heard the rustling of sheets and a deep breath.

"Where...am I?”

Jackie ended the call without saying goodbye and scurried into the hallway. "Nurse! She's awake! Rose is out of the coma!"

oOo

Sunlight streamed through the mini-blinds, casting wavy shadows across Rose's bed. Pete sat in the side chair and leaned forward. On the other side of the bed, Jackie sat, holding her daughter's hand as tears streamed down Rose's face.

"Mickey's dead?" Rose's voice cracked, quiet from disuse and medication.

Pete nodded, making a small, stuttering movement of affirmation, successfully quenching his own broken emotions for the enormous loss.

"There was an accident. The Cannon...it...stopped working right as you jumped."

"The stars? The Darkness?" she managed to ask, with difficulty.

"All back, Rose. All of them. And the Darkness, it's either retreated or it is just...gone." Pete looked down at the industrial tile floor. "It's like it never happened.”

“He did it. The Doctor did it." Rose shut her eyes.

"That he did," Pete agreed without hesitation. "Victor says the Cannon misfire was caused by something he called a retroclosure energy wave backwash."

Rose nodded as she listened.

"The others were caught in the explosion. It was immediate Rose. No one suffered, and the only reason you didn't," Pete swallowed hard, "...die, was because you were caught for a moment in some sort of a time bubble. The energy wave that you were riding bounced off of the walls of the universe, taking out everything...everything behind you."

She nodded gravely, understanding. "Anyone outside of the Cannon room caught in the wave?"

"Everyone in the facility was killed...except you."

Rose covered her face, only then realising the weight of the loss. "Mickey?" She asked a second time.

"Yes, Rose. Mickey's gone."

Pete watched as Rose's face contorted.

"I'm so sorry," Jackie said as she stroked Rose's arm.

Rose began to breathe in and out rapidly. Her face grew pale, and her heart rate accelerated. Droplets of perspiration appeared on her forehead as she began to hyperventilate.

"Rose, you need to calm down, sweetheart! It isn't good for you!" warned her mother nervously.

Pete left to retrieve a doctor or nurse.

"Dead," she managed to say between gasps for air. "I killed them..."

"No more talking. Just breathe. Slowly...in and out...in and out." Jackie modelled slow, exaggerated breathing.

Pete returned with a nurse, who pulled an oxygen mask from the wall and placed it over Rose's nose to supplement the nosepiece already in place. He examined the device that automatically administered Rose's medication and adjusted a few settings. Soon the symptoms of stress subsided and her breathing and heart rate returned to normal.

"You need to keep her stress level down, Mr. and Mrs. Tyler. Please don't upset her again." The nurse left.

Rose looked up at the ceiling and pulled off the mask. "S'my fault," she said, her voice cracking.

"No, this is _not_ your fault," Pete said firmly, though his voice remained quiet. "It was an accident. There is no way any of us would have known or could've prevented this.”

Rose rolled over onto her side and tucked her head under her arms, drawing herself into a ball.

"Rose, sweetheart..." Jackie said, trying to reach her daughter who was pulling into a shell.

Jackie and Pete sat for an hour, neither of them speaking. Both knew Rose was awake, but she had not spoken once during that time. When eight o'clock neared, and Rose still had not stirred, Pete and Jackie looked at each other painfully.

"We'll see you tomorrow then, sweetheart," Jackie said. She lovingly touched her daughter on the arm.

Pete wrapped his arm around Jackie, and together the couple left the broken woman to her grief.

oOo

Jackie and Pete returned to visit Rose early the next morning. Before entering her room, they spoke with Rose's nurse.

"She asked for something to help her sleep, so Dr. Harper prescribed something. Other than that, she was fine. I'd say things are looking up, wouldn't you?" the nurse suggested with a smile, seemingly unaware of how far from the truth lay Rose's reality. "Why don't you go on in. She's done with breakfast, I think. Even got up and took a shower bright and early. Me and the other nurses were just talking about it, in fact. Doesn't seem possible she would be able to do that the morning after she woke up. She needed some help walking of course, a bit dizzy from the pain killers, but she managed brilliantly, considering."

Pete frowned, unsure what to make of the information. Jackie, however, was simply happy for the progress.

As they entered, Rose greeted them with a smile. "Hello."

"How you doing today, sweetheart?" asked Jackie, relieved to see a smile on her daughter's face.

"When can I get out of this place, Mum?" she asked, ignoring her mother's question, but with lightness in her voice. "I'm going barmy in here."

"It's not even been twenty-four hours since you woke up, sweetheart," Jackie said.

Rose half smiled and looked out the window.

"You'll be home soon, Rose. Is there anything we can bring you? A book you were reading? Some magazines? Maybe your laptop?" asked Pete.

"I wasn't reading anything, and my laptop was..." Rose cleared her throat and mentally strengthened herself. "I left my laptop in my gear locker before the final jump."

“We'll buy you a new one, won't we Pete? Just like mine. It's so thin and light, Rose, you wouldn't believe it! Nothing like that heavy thing that Mickey used to lug around."

On the sly, Pete tapped Jackie's leg, hoping she would stop talking about Rose's dead friend. He studied Rose's face carefully, and she did not flinch. Rose did, however, see his subtle hint.

"Pete, it's alright to talk about Mickey. Or anyone else who died for that matter. Our job was dangerous, yeah? None of us expected to live forever."

"I'm sorry Rose, I wasn't thinking. I've had more time to get used to the idea of Micks being gone," Jackie apologised.

"Mum, I said it's okay. Don't tiptoe around me."

After chatting for fifteen minutes, Pete went to work, and Jackie left to shop for a computer for Rose.

The moment they left the room, Rose turned onto her side, and curled back into that ball.

oOo

Rose had been hospitalised for twenty-three days when Dr. Harper cleared her to go home.

"We can bring you home tomorrow! There'll be a trained nurse of course. There isn't anything they can do for for you here that can't be done in your own room," Jackie said, animated and happy.

Rose directed a questioning look at Pete.

"No arguments, it's already arranged," he said with a hint of humour as he aimed a finger at her.

Rose rolled her eyes. "I don't know how to swallow a pill on my own, after all," she said facetiously.

"Oh, don't be rude," Jackie chided her daughter.

"M'not rude, Mum. Just tired of having people around all the time. I wanna...I just want to be alone for a while."

"Oh," Jackie replied. "You wanna be alone now? 'Cos I can go, and come back tomorrow to pick you up," offered Jackie, understanding her daughter's desire to be unbothered.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Jackie left without another word.

oOo

Five days into her convalescence at the Tyler estate, the hired nurse was no longer needed. Rose was determined to be self-sufficient, and had proven that her physical body was quick to heal. She made plans to return to her own flat over the weekend, and resume work at Torchwood the following week.

That night after dinner, Pete asked if she wanted to have a cup of tea with him in his study.

"Shut the door, would you? I don't want your mum wandering in. No offence against my wife, but she can dominate a conversation."

Rose turned to the side and snickered. "Ya got that right. What did you want to talk about, Pete? I'm sure it wasn't tea." Rose fiddled with one of the subtle scars on her left hand, a reminder of the burn blisters. It was small, and probably only she would notice it.

"I'll get right to it. How are you are doing?" Pete asked. "And please. Be truthful."

"What do you mean?" she asked with a hint of a smile smile, and a quiver in her voice.

"Rose, you know exactly what I mean." Pete asked.

She sighed. "I'm fine. A bit sore still." She moved to tuck a non-existent lock of hair behind her ear, but stopped short. "I hate my hair right now, but that'll grow back."

"I'm not talking about your injuries, Rose. Emotionally, I think you need...help. I have a friend that I'd like you to talk to. Her name is Dr. Lavinia Sandhurst, and she is a psychologist who specialises in posttraumatic stress disorder.”

“You think I have PTSD?" asked Rose, dubious.

"Just talk to her." Pete held out the psychologist's card, but Rose did not accept it.

She moved to leave.

"Rose, please. I'm not trying to show you how to run your life, but you can't bottle it up."

"I'm not bottling up anything. I'm fine. Really." Casually, she picked up her tea and took a sip.

Pete stood from his chair, and came around to the front of the massive desk that dominated the room. He crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of the desktop. They held each other's gazes in a contest of wills.

Rose spoke first. "I am telling you, I am alright." Her eyes remained locked on Pete's.

"For the record, I don't believe you," Pete challenged.

"That's your choice." Rose pressed her lips together, and blinked once before retreating from Pete's study. Gently, she closed the door behind her.

oOo

Rose hauled herself over the side of the indoor pool and onto the deck. The swimming pavilion, with its sauna, steam room and hot tub, was a luxury that she was very glad her stepfather had decided to maintain, rather than shut down to save the expense of maintenance. 

Most of the artwork, some choice cases of vintage wine in the cellar, the second set of silver flatware, and many antiques had been sold off to fund the establishment of Torchwood in the year after the fall of Lumic Industries and the Cybermen. The mansion was still beautifully furnished, but with furniture that was more homely, comfortable and to Pete's tastes. Jackie thought the home was beautiful, and it was nicer by far than any home in which she had ever lived.

She wrapped herself in a large, white towel and went into the sauna to dry off. Her mind began to tumble, as so often happened these days when she was not busy. She had returned to work part time, but was limited to desk work: helping prepare after-incident reports, acting as a liaison to the Army, and other dull tasks she had dumped on someone else when she was working in the field.

For three years, she'd been impatiently working towards the goal of returning to her original universe, of reuniting with the Doctor. But when the stars began to disappear, returning to her home world became that much more urgent, and the development of the Dimension Cannon became her ticket back. And even though every being in her universe needed Rose to find the Doctor, to Rose herself, finding the Doctor, returning to _him,_ had remained her primary motivation.

 _Maybe if I hadn't have been so bloody desperate - so selfish - to get back to him, they'd all still be alive,_ she thought to herself. _My selfishness got everyone killed. He didn't need me after all. He figured it out on his own. Of course he did. He's a genius. Why would he need me? He's been around for almost a thousand years. I must have been like a blink of the eye to him. Probably doesn't even remember me..._

The heat soothed her tired muscles and drew beads of sweat to the surface of her skin. Rose unwrapped herself from the large white towel, peeled off her clammy swimming suit and spread the towel over the hot, aromatic cedar bench. She turned onto her stomach, crossed her arms and rested her head on her forearms. She melted into the bench. Soon, she became drowsy in the hot room, lulled by the sound of the heating unit popping and crackling as the temperature soared to seventy degrees.

In the seclusion and privacy of the dimly lit small space, tears mingled with droplets of sweat, and Rose's resolve to be _Always Alright_ cracked. Tears gave way to sobs, which led to sighs and finally, sleep.

Three hours later, Rose woke up in the white tiled room of the A & E with an IV in her arm to rehydrate her electrolyte-starved body.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep, it just... happened," explained Rose.

"You aren't eating, you're dehydrated...and this isn't just from falling asleep in the sauna, Miss Tyler," Dr. Harper accused.

"Dr. Harper, it was an _accident_. I promise."

"I'm admitting you for observation." Without further explanation, he left.

Jackie squeezed her arm. "Rose, I can't go through this again, watching you wither away. You can't let it get as bad as last time. You need help."

"You don't understand, Mum," Rose whispered through heat-chapped lips.

"You think you have a monopoly on grief? Well you don't! Other people are suffering too! The families of everyone who died are grieving the people they lost! Have you even called any of your friends' loved ones? It's been two months Rose. It's time to come out of it!" Angrily, Jackie flipped the curtain aside, and left.

oOo

Jackie and Rose stepped out of the bright beauty salon into thick rain. A short haircut had been the only logical choice if Rose had wanted to avoid sympathetic stares and questions about her singed hair from well-meaning strangers.

“You look so chic, Rose! Like Emma Watson even! Very stylish. All the A-Listers are cutting off their hair these days. Says so in Vogue you know." Her mother's words were small comfort. "Glad you go to a salon that keeps a client profile on file. They were able to match your colour from before perfectly!" Jackie cooed over her daughter's new style. She fingered the fringe that framed her daughter's eyes.

Hesitantly, Rose touched her new pixie cut hair. It made her feel anxious, queasy even. It was like her head was floating on her neck without the weight of her hair to hold it in place. The slightly weightless feeling left her emotionally dizzy. Rose felt foolish mourning the loss of her long hair, but perhaps it was paltry penance for what the others had lost. Perhaps she didn't deserve to have emerged unaltered from The Incident.

Her mind flashed to a set of ice blue eyes, and dark, shorn hair. She wondered if he, too, had cut his hair after the loss of his planet.

“I could use a cuppa. Let's pop into that coffee shop over there. Then I'm going to take you clothes shopping. You need a new outfit to go with that new hair of yours, sweetheart!"

Rose nodded lamely.

oOo

"Pete, I um, I need you to help me with something. I'll never ask you for anything ever again." Rose sat in Pete's office at Torchwood, shoulders slumped and head hanging. 

"Tell me what you need," Pete replied without question.

Pete understood Rose more than she realised. He had observed how she had changed since The Incident. The woman was withdrawn and apologetic, timid and touchy. The quietest unexpected noise startled her. She had stopped eating regularly, though she exercised like a woman in training. Coffee was her drink of choice and the doctor-mandated part time hours at work had become sixty hour weeks. She rarely visited her parents' home, even forsaking time with little Tony. She and Jackie had grown reticent around one-another. When they even spoke, their conversations were composed of meaningless small talk.

Pete knew that guilt was eating away at his stepdaughter and she needed a change. _Quickly._ Jackie would probably kill him when she found out, but she would thank him later. When he had lost his first Jackie, he had needed to make radical changes for his own sanity. Perhaps Rose needed that same transformation.

oOo

_One Month Later_

Rose pulled her car into the crushed rock parking place to the right of the yellow cottage. Her short hair ruffled in the sea breeze coming through the open window of her small green Fiat. One upside to her short hair, she had admitted, was that a stiff breeze did not ruin it. White and yellow daisies bobbed their heads in the small flowerbed to the right of the porch. She gripped the leather-wrapped steering wheel and read the address placard next to the very _not blue_ , cheerful yellow door.

"This is me, then. New home. New job. New life. 56 Old Church Road, Broadchurch.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

“Mummy! Mummy! C'mere! The new neighbour is here, and she has a doggie!" A boy of about five years was standing on one of the kitchen chairs, looking out the window.

"Oh brilliant." The woman smirked. "Just what we need. A dog that'll yap all night," the woman said under her breath before joining her son.

"He looks like a tiger!" He exclaimed, and before imitating a tiger's growl. "I've never seen a doggie with stripes before. What kind of a doggie is that, Mummy?" He pressed his button nose right up against the windowpane. The glass fogged with his breath.

"It's a greyhound. They're very thin. Look at the muscles on that beast, would you."

"Can I go and pet the doggie, Mummy?"

She hesitated, always wary of strangers. Quickly, but with practised thoroughness, the woman apprised the petite, blonde sitting on the front steps of the house next door. The homes on this street were very close to one another, so she could see her clearly.

The woman guessed that her new neighbour was approximately twenty-five years old. She was very slender, with hair cut short in a stylish pixie. Most likely, it was not her natural hair colour as her eyebrows were dark, while her hair was honey blonde. The woman was pretty. Some might even say beautiful, with lips that were full and pink, and outstanding, dark eyes. Her casual clothing looked to be of high quality and the newest style, the type found in a London boutique. She wore well fitting, trendy jeans, trainers of the newest style, and an expensive leather jacket over a form-fitting, white tee shirt.

As she sat on the front steps, she fiddled with her mobile. The tiger-striped dog lay at her feet, its eyes drooping drowsily.

"Are you _sure_ the doggie isn't a tiger, Mummy?" the boy asked innocently.

"No, I really don't think so." She laughed at her son's newest fixation. "Come on then, Freddy, no time like the present. Let's go meet the new neighbour."

Ellie Baker, formerly Miller, extended her hand to her youngest son, and out the door they went.

oOo

Rose closed out the text message, and looked up when she caught movement in the corner of her vision. A pretty, but tired looking, curly haired brunette woman with a boy of about five years headed her way. She shoved her mobile into the pocket of her jacket, and smoothed out her jeans as she stood. _Here goes,_ Rose thought to herself.

"Hello," Rose said with a friendly wave.

"Can I pet the doggie?" asked Fred, wriggling his hand free from his mother's grasp, and running up to the dog without hesitation.

"That was very grown up of you to ask first." Rose smiled at the child. "It's okay with me."

"Can I, Mummy? Please?"

The woman nodded.

"He isn't a tiger, is he? He is so skinny! Doesn't he eat anything? His nose is so pointy!"

Rose giggled at the child's rapid-fire questions. "No, he isn't a tiger, yes he eats like a horse, and is even a bit of a thief too. Nicks food from the counter when I'm not watching."

The child knelt down next to the lazy dog, and stroked the dog's brown and black striped back.

"He's so soft." The boy pressed his cheek against the dog's small head. The dog turned and sniffed the boy's face. "His nose is cold," he said with a merry giggle. "What's his name?" asked the boy.

"Funny you should think he's a tiger, 'cos I thought that too. So I named him Tiger, 'cos of the stripes."

"Mummy! I told you he looked like a tiger. Even his _name_ is Tiger! I think he really _is_ one. I bet he escaped from the circus, and he's just _pretending_ to be a doggie! Hi, Tiger." He looked up at Rose. "Tiger's a _good_ name." The boy smiled, crinkling his nose sweetly. Freckles were sprinkled over his nose and cheeks, and his hair was messy and wild in its uncombed state.

Rose swallowed hard as a beloved face flashed across her memory. She pushed down the vision, and smiled back at the boy. "The people at the RSPCA shelter were sure he was a racer. His ears have been tattooed."

"Can we get a tiger doggie from the PSCPA, Mummy?"

The woman finally spoke. "I will have to think about that one, little man." She patted the dog's back.

"Some kids found him sleeping in a park. No tags, no collar. Might've been abandoned or he could have run off and got lost. He wasn't chipped, so they didn't know who to contact."

"That wasn't very nice," the child said with a frown before returning his attention to Tiger. "I'd _never_ let _my_ doggie run away...if I had a doggie." He looked at his mother.

"I had better cut in, or he'll talk your ears off." The woman extended her hand, and Rose accepted. "I'm Ellie Baker, and this fellow is my son Fred. My oldest boy, Tom, is playing footie down the road a bit."

"Nice to meet you, Ellie. I'm Gwenyth Lewis." The name was thick in her mouth, unnatural, but she and Pete had decided that a new name would give her the anonymity she so desperately needed and wanted. "Everyone calls me Gwen."

"So what brings you to Broadchurch? Isn't that the question all of us nosy village folk are supposed to ask the mysterious newcomer?" Ellie asked with a grin.

There it was. The inevitable question that Rose knew she would have to answer many times over. She had rehearsed her answer carefully. "I _really_ needed a change." Rose exaggerated the words, infusing them with feigned humour. "And I suppose that's the answer all of us mysterious newcomers are supposed to give, yeah?" Rose grinned. The tip of her tongue peeked through her teeth.

Ellie chuckled quietly. "Touche'." She nodded knowingly and looked away for a moment.

It had been nearly nine months since she had decided that for her and her boys, a fresh start did not require moving away from everyone she knew and loved, and away from those who cared for her. A new home, and the reclaiming of her maiden name, had proven to be enough of a change...for now.

"So is there an inn or B & B around here? I just got a text from my movers, and the truck has broken down. They won't be able to deliver my things 'til tomorrow." Rose sighed.

"Well that's rubbish." Ellie paused awkwardly. "Listen, I was about to make something to eat for me and the boys. Why don't you join us?"

"Well..." Rose hesitated.

"I promise, I'm not a nutter or desperate for friends. The people before you just weren't very friendly, and I'm a rather social person." Ellie smiled.

"Don't worry, I'm not a nutter either. I can also promise you I will be a very quiet neighbour. No wild parties, loud music, or tosser boyfriends."

Ellie tipped her head up up and lowered her eyebrows. "So a fresh start, eh? Divorce?" she asked, comfortable with being bold. Investigation was her chosen profession after all, and curiosity was part of the job description.

"Nope." Rose shook her head offered a rather cool smile. Reflexively, she made a move to tuck her hair behind her ear, but she found no hair to tuck. To hide her nervousness, she pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

"The people who lived in the house before you were a couple from London. They thought they wanted to experience authentic village life or some such rubbish. Snobs if you ask me. Anyway, the so-called authenticity of a seaside village proved too dull, and then the authenticity must've _really_ worn off after all the media attention from Danny's murder. They put the place up for sale the day after the first press conference."

"Murder?" Rose trying to sound casual, but she started to pick her fingernails, which betrayed her curiosity. "Danny?"

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Oh bloody hell. Not you too! Don't tell me you're a reporter or a writer over from London trying to get into my good graces? Catch the story of a lifetime? Secure the interview everyone wants with the clueless woman who was married to the Child Killer of Broadchurch? Listen here, you blonde bitch. Which magazine or London tabloid sent you? I am not-"

Rose held her hands up. "What the hell? I'm not..." She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut momentarily. "Listen, I have no idea what you're going on about. I _am_ from London, but I'm not a writer or a reporter. I really, truly moved here because I wanted a change of scenery," Rose said defensively.

Ellie prided herself on her usually accurate instincts. She believed her, and felt bad for jumping to conclusions. "Listen, Gwen, I’m sorry. I'm a bit...wary. Been a bloody bad year." Ellie sighed.

Rose nodded, but kept her own face unreadable. "I think I'll have to take a pass on lunch, but thanks for offering. I need to figure out where I'm gonna sleep tonight."

Ellie nodded, and smiled a bit sheepishly. "You really don't know, do you? About my ex-husband Joe and what happened to Danny Latimer?"

Rose shook her head. "No, I really don't. I was," she closed her eyes to emphasise her point, "really wrapped up in my job for the past three years. Don't think I turned on a telly more than two dozen times."

"What kind of job has you so tied up?" Ellie asked, her brows knitted together.

Rose had an answer prepared for this question, as well. " _Had._ The job I had." Well-rehearsed, she laughed. "Even the _thought_ of that job gives me hives."

"Oh, one of those high-stress corporate jobs?" Ellie asked with a wry smile.

Rose strained to smile, and shrugged one shoulder.

"So what are you going to do now? Here in Broadchurch?" Ellie asked.

Tiger stood up and stretched his long body with a lazy yawn. He sidled up to Rose, and she scratched between his ears. He turned his head into her thigh, thoroughly content.

"I bought the newsagent shop. I guess the former owner passed away?" asked Rose.

Ellie nodded. Her stomach flipped as she recalled Jack Marshall's suicide.

"It's being remodelled right now. I'm having an espresso bar put in. Blimey, that sounds so big city, doesn't it?" Rose shook her head in good humour. "But it's not going to be anything too posh. Just a comfortable place for people to sit, read the news and have a cuppa."

"Sounds nice. We don't have anything like that here."

The conversation lagged, and then a realisation hit Rose. "Ellie, where's your son?" She saw Ellie's face blanch, and Rose's instincts engaged. "What's wrong?"

"I have told him over and over to not wander off!" Ellie pressed her palm to her forehead, and then looked up and down the street. "Fred?" she called loudly. "Freddy!"

The boy came running around the corner from the rear garden of his own house. "Lookie, Mummy! I picked flowers for the new neighbour!"

"Fred Baker, you know to not just disappear like that!" Ellie said angrily, bending over and grasping his shoulders protectively.

"Sorry, Mummy." The little boy looked down at his trainers.

Rose bent over to the child's level, realising how much she missed her little brother, Tony. "Thanks, that was very sweet of you, but you need to listen to your Mummy, all right?"

"Freddy, go inside wash up for lunch."

He scurried off.

"Oh gods, I'm so embarrassed," said Ellie, touching her forehead.

"Don't be," Rose said, genuinely kind.

"Is it too early for a glass of wine?" Ellie asked, only half joking. Her mobile twittered, and she looked at the screen before she answered. "Hey. What's up?" She looked away, then down at the ground and up at the sky, listening to the voice on the other end. "Okay. I'll meet you there in half an hour." She ended the call with her thumb. "I need to go. That was work."

Rose nodded. "Thanks for coming over. I'll see you soon."

The women parted.

oOo

Rose's new home was roughly the same size as her London flat. The one storey cottage was cosy, with paned windows and hardwood floors. The lounge had a fireplace, framed by blue and white delft tiles depicting various country scenes. A sofa faced the fireplace, and two side chairs were on each side of the fireplace. A flat screen television hung above the fireplace. Off of the dining area was a functional and bright eat-in kitchen with modern appliances and cabinetry, courtesy of the prior owners.

There were two bedrooms. Rose's, the larger of the two, was dominated by a four poster, queen sized bed. She had splurged when she bought it, wanting the most comfortable mattress possible. Her bed on the TARDIS had been perfect. Of course, no Earthly mattress could rival it, but she bought the best she could find. The soft colours of the bedding, crisp white sheets with a pale blue and white striped duvet and coordinating throw pillows contributed to the calm atmosphere.

If her bedroom was her retreat, her en suite bathroom was the oasis. Like the kitchen, it had been tastefully remodelled by the previous owners. White subway tile covered the walls halfway up, and the heated floor was paved with small black and white hexagonal tiles. An enormous, white claw-footed bathtub, perfect for long soaks, was the centrepiece of the room. A separate, generously sized glass-doored shower occupied one corner. She would never run out of hot water, as the bathroom had its own dedicated instant hot water heater. A stained glass window graced the exterior wall. It was an abstract design, the colours of the sea. Rose was not sure she would have picked this particular design, but when the light was just right, calming blue and green-hued light flooded the room. The effect was lovely.

The second bedroom remained empty. At some point, she hoped to buy a bed for guests. She didn't believe she would hide herself away from her mother and family forever, and hoped that someday, she would be strong enough to have them visit. She looked forward to a time when Tony would be back in her life, and would be able to come and stay with her.

oOo

The expensive Italian espresso machine may have been a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, but it was also proving to be difficult. Extremely. Rose had opted for the fully manual machine rather than an easier to operate automatic, wanting to offer authentic and excellent espresso. But right now, all she wanted to do was pitch the thing out the window. Or better yet, throw it into a black hole.

The beautiful machine was the centrepiece of Rose's new shop. She had renamed Jack Marshall's tiny place Zoka Coffee, Tea & News, but now it was more about coffee and tea than news. During her Earthbound travels, Rose had come across a coffee shop of the same name. The name meant _new beginnings_. She learned that more specifically, the two Chinese characters that formed the sound meant create and transform.

"Oh no!" screeched her one employee, a sixteen year old girl, as the force of the steam hitting the milk caused a foam explosion.

"You okay, Chloe?" Rose asked. "Are you burnt?"

"No, I'm fine. Just made another mess. I am so, so sorry! I'm never gonna get this. This stupid machine is just too hard!"

"Oh come on Chloe, you'll get the hang of it...probably before I do," Rose laughed. "But whatever you do, don't worry about it," Rose said with a sigh. "You know how many litres of milk I've scalded and spilled trying to figure out this bloody thing?" She handed Chloe a clean dish towel to blot her milk-soaked apron and shirt. "I'll go get the mop in back. There are a couple of rolls of kitchen towels in the cabinet above the sink."

"Bugger. My boyfriend Dean is supposed to pick me up in fifteen minutes, and I won't have time to go home and change before the film," she said angrily as she continued to sop up the milk from her shirt.

"I think I have a spare shirt in back," offered Rose. She wound her way through the comfortable chairs, and disappeared into the storage room at the back of the shop. Without bothering to turn on the lights, she headed for the janitorial supplies cupboard.

The back door, which led to the alleyway, was ajar. She froze. Nervously, she looked around the small room, and saw the shadowy figure of a man standing flush against the wall. He came at her with something long in his hand, and her self defence reflexes engaged. With a grunt, Rose high-kicked, landing a swift blow to his chest. Unfortunately, he was significantly taller than Rose, and was holding a heavy spanner.

He called her a foul name, and then swung his long arm. She cried out as the spanner struck the back of her head.

oOo

"Gwen? Where are you? I heard loud noises back here." She gasped when her eyes found Rose, sprawled on her stomach. "Gwen!" Chloe lunged at her boss, and pulled out her mobile. 

Rose opened her eyes and struggled to turn over onto her back "Oh...my head," she groaned. "There was a bloke. He bashed my head with a spanner."

"I'm ringing 999. Don't move!" Chloe chewed on her lip until her call was answered. "This is Chloe Latimer. My boss has been attacked! She was hit over the head by a burglar or something...We're at the newsagents, Jack Marshall's old place...Yeah, Zoka...Yeah, I'll stay on the line 'til they come." Chloe turned to Rose. "Police are on the way. What happened?"

"There was...someone in here when I came back to fetch the mop. The back door was open. He came at me with that spanner over there." Rose pointed generally, and then tried to stand.

"What do you think you're doing? Don't you dare try'n get up!" Chloe sounded rather maternal for a young woman of sixteen. "There's blood all over the back of your shirt! Oh god!"

Rose groaned and felt dizzy. "Think I'll just stay...right here," she said, trying to sound unfazed. Rose crawled over to the wall, and sat with her back against it.

During the next five minutes, Chloe sat next to her boss and held her hand as she nervously wiggled her foot. They heard sirens approaching.

“I think the coppers are here. I need to go and let 'em in. Don't you move a muscle, Gwen. Gods, I really hope Hardy doesn't come."

Rose heard several voices, including one which seemed familiar.

"What's happened Chloe? Is Gwen okay? I came straight here when I heard what happened."

"She thinks someone broke in and hit her over the head with a spanner. The back door is open, and it is always locked. I haven't touched one thing. When will the ambulance be here? They should be here already!" Chloe rambled nervously.

"There was a collision up the coast half an hour ago. They can't come. Flip on the lights."

"Ellie?" Rose asked quietly, squinting at the bright light. She was clearly surprised that her neighbour was with the police.

"Oh Gwen, are you alright?" Ellie crouched down, not waiting for Rose to answer. "Lean forward. I need to see how bad your head is." She pulled on rubber gloves. Rose complied, tilting her head forward.

Ellie saw that her blonde hair was matted with a significant amount of blood. "I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure you're going to need to have this examined. I'm going have to drive you over to the A&E myself. The village only has one ambulance, and it's tied up...unless you'd rather go in a panda car," Ellie added, trying to lighten the mood.

"No thanks," chuckled Rose. "I'll ride with you."

"Stay there for a mo." Ellie stood up and looked around the storage room. She saw a large metal spanner on the floor. Again, she crouched down and looked at it carefully. "No one touch anything. There's blonde hair and blood on this spanner. Maybe there are fingerprints. Bransen, call SOCO. And call Hardy too, tell him to meet us at the hospital. I'm going to take Gwen to A&E. Come on then, up with you." She helped Rose to her feet.

oOo

"You have a lot of scarring on your scalp, and what looks to be a scar from a shunt. Were you in an accident?"

“Yeah." Rose spoke quietly hoping that Ellie, who was standing on the other side of the curtain, would not hear.

“He looked at the x-ray film through half glasses perched on the end of his nose. "You're going to need sutures, but the good news is you don't have a concussion. Or another skull fracture. That must have been quite an accident. You have _three_ skull fractures that are still in the process of healing."

Rose looked impassive.

"I'm going to apply a local anaesthetic in the area before I stitch you up. It won't make the procedure completely painless, but it will dull things a bit. You allergic to lidocaine?" he asked as he gathered supplies onto a rolling metal instrument table.

She shook her head.

"Knock, knock," said Ellie through the curtain. "Can I come in?"

"Come on in, Ellie," the physician said casually.

"Before you stitch her up Gene, can I take some pictures for the case file?"

"Of course." The physician nodded and stepped away.

"Look down, would you, Gwen?"

Rose complied, and Ellie snapped a few photos with the camera on her mobile. “The DI wants to ask you a few questions. I'm gonna warn you, he's a bit of a grump, but don't let him get to you. He'll make you think you're the one under investigation."

"He's a git, that's what he is," the elderly, white-haired physician said under his breath.

"I've met my share of gits," Rose said with a chuckle, then she hissed through gritted teeth as the physician pulled the first stitch.

"Sorry about that," apologised the physician. "Scalp tender?"

"A bit," she replied, bracing herself against the sting of the needle that not even the lidocaine could mask.

The physician was gentle, and worked quickly with the needle and nylon thread.

"Fifteen stitches, young lady. Who'd you cross to get bashed over the head with a spanner?" he joked, trying to distract his patient as he finished the task.

Without requesting entrance, the curtain was yanked aside, and in barged a tall, slender man with unkept brown hair, two days' stubble, and a plain blue tie hanging loosely around his neck.

"Tell me what happened Ms..." He looked down at his small, black notepad. "Ms. Lewis."

Rose's mouth gaped open, and she took a moment to calm herself before she managed to choke out one word. "Doctor?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

“Doctor..." Rose Tyler repeated. The second time she spoke his name, her voice was even more breathless than the first.

Dr. Solomon stilled her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He could feel her nervous trembling under his hand, so he stopped stitching. "I'm right here, Ms. Lewis. I know it hurts, but please, try not to move. That is, unless you'd like an extra stitch in your neck," said the physician with subtle humour. "I'd have to charge you extra, of course."

Rose quieted herself as well as she could, and the physician resumed the procedure. She gripped the edge of the examination table until her knuckles were white. She couldn't take her eyes off of the detective. She knew he was speaking, but the ringing in her ears was obscuring the sound of his voice. She stared at his face, watching his mouth move as his dark, scrutinising eyes bore two holes into her. The intensity of the ringing in her ears multiplied. Her face and neck began to prickle as her skin became clammy and damp.

"'M not feeling so good." Rose's vision blurred, then went black, and she slumped onto her side.

"We've got swooner," Dr. Solomon said blithely, with a seeming lack of concern. "Ellie, do me a favour. Ask a nurse for a cold, wet flannel, would you?"

Alec pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I really don't have time for this. How long is she going to be out?"

"Have some sympathy for the woman, Inspector. Her shop has been broken into, she nearly had her skull cracked open, and I'm bloody quilting the back of her head. Now get your arse over here and help me stretch her out properly."

“Hardy pursed his lips, then slapped his black notepad shut before shoving it into his suit coat pocket.

Dr. Solomon straightened her torso and head, while Hardy pulled her feet onto the table.

“Here's a pillow. Put it under her feet," commanded the physician.

The nurse came in and clicked her tongue. "Poor thing. She's had a bit of a rough night hasn't she, now?" The nurse draped the flannel over Rose's forehead, and then removed her shoes.

The Inspector moved closer so that he was looking directly down on her, almost like inspecting a corpse.

Her eyes drifted open. With a halting hand, she reached up slowly and cupped the man's stubbly face with tenderness. "So it wasn't a dream," she said through glistening eyes before her face erupted into a glowing smile.

"You're caressing my face, Ms. Lewis." The man's Scottish accent was thick, even to the point of rolling his R's, and it broke the spell under which Rose was held. "And you're staring. Do I have parsley caught between my teeth?"

"Uh..." As if retracting her hand from a flame, quickly, she withdrew her hand.

"You're not..." She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh of resignation, knowing now that she had made a mistake. Rose put her emotional mask back on. "I did just get bashed over the head, y'know. Don't you think I'm entitled to a bit of odd behaviour like staring and touching complete strangers?" She said, intentionally cheeky. The words poured from her mouth the same way they had when she had flirted with her Doctor years before, natural and unrehearsed.

Detective Inspector Alec Hardy had no equally witty retort. "I was asking you a question before you passed out. Do you need to me to repeat it?"

"How's that heart of yours, Inspector?" asked the physician, interrupting the interrogation for the sake of his patient.

The detective kept his eyes on Rose as he replied to the doctor, mainly because of the new, unreadable look on her face. "And I see that you failed your patient confidentiality course."

Rose giggled before pinching her lips together to stop her pain medication-induced tittering.

"I wasn't referring to the muscle in your chest, Inspector," Dr. Solomon said archly.

"Alright, shut it you two," Ellie intervened, irritated and tired. She looked at her watch. It was nearing midnight. "Gwen, I'm sorry that DI Hardy is being his usual rude self. If he won't introduce himself, I'll do it for him. Gwen Lewis, this is Inspector Alec Hardy. Inspector, this is Ms. Lewis. You know...the victim." Ellie rolled her eyes.

Alec stepped away and levelled an irritated look at Ellie, who mirrored his expression without backing down.

Ellie continued to stare at Hardy. "Remember what I said about him, Gwen."

"Dare I ask?" the DI asked Ellie.

"Just... get on with it." Ellie crossed her arms.

"So you were hit over the head with a spanner. Did you get a look at the person who did this?" He reopened his notebook, and held his biro near the paper, ready to write.

Rose sighed, and dropped her hand across her forehead. The feel of the damp cloth seemed to lessen the giddy feeling. "Not a good look, but enough to know he was a he. He was about six foot, and slender. Probably young the way he moved. His reflexes were quick when I went for him."

"So you defended yourself?" he asked, his eyes snapping up, surprised.

"Yeah. I got one good kick in, right to the centre of his chest. I definitely left my mark," she said, somewhat proud. “But then he took a swing at me, and knocked me out with a spanner. I saw it on the floor when I came to."

"Any idea what he wanted?"

"Italian roast coffee?" she joked, peeking her tongue between her teeth as she smiled.

Ellie laughed, but Alex raised a single eyebrow at Rose. The look was achingly familiar, but lacked the warmth and good humour that had been in the Doctor's eyes.

"Sorry. I have no idea. I only store extra stock back there. Sweets, magazines, and supplies for the cafe and such. But nothing that I can think of that a burglar would want. No valuables, if that's what you're wondering."

"How'd he gain access?" The Inspector scribbled notes furiously as he spoke.

"The back door was ajar, so I have to assume that's how he got in. That was the first indication that I knew something wasn't right. That door is always locked. It's self locking, in fact. When I take the rubbish out to the bin, I have to prop it open, or else I'm locked out, and have to walk around to the front of the shop to get back in." Rose closed her eyes and yawned. "Sorry. Is this going to take much longer? I am starting to feel very sleepy."

"No, I'm done here. I'll be in touch if I need anything else. Baker, send for a car to take Ms. Lewis home."

“I'll just take her myself. She's my next door neighbour."

"You'll do no such thing, Ellie. This woman is being admitted," Dr. Solomon interrupted.

"For a few stitches?" Hardy said, his voice high, incredulous.

"Yes," said the physician without further explanation.

Alec raised both eyebrows, apparently surprised, but did not comment. As abruptly as he arrived, Detective Inspector Alec Hardy left.

"Tiger. My dog. He needs to be let out and fed. Would you, Ellie? I hate to ask-"

"Of course," Ellie replied. "Freddy will be thrilled to tag along tomorrow. I'll take care of him tonight."

"My keys...I suppose they're back at the shop in my handbag..."

"No, I grabbed them. They're both in my car."

"You think of everything, don't you?" Rose said with a small smile.

"I'll take care of your dog, and then I'll come visit you tomorrow...if that's okay with you?"

"Sure. Thanks, Ellie. I would like that," Rose said kindly.

Ellie left hastily.

"Alec Hardy is a bastard," muttered the physician. "I don't know how Ellie puts up with him. Strangest friendship I have ever seen. So Ellie is your neighbour?" he asked conversationally as he returned his attention to the back of her head.

"Yeah, just moved in about three weeks ago. I didn't know that she was a detective until tonight. Just thought she had awfully strange hours."

He finished his work and applied a bandage. "I'll come and check on you tomorrow. Make sure you get some rest."

oOo

Rose woke up disoriented. It took a moment to remember what had happened. She fumbled until she found the call button to summon a nurse. "Is it okay if I have breakfast?" she asked, when the nurse arrived.

“More like lunchtime, Ms. Lewis. You up for a visitor? the nurse asked, as she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Rose's bicep. 

_Must be Ellie_ , she thought to herself. "Yeah, sure."

After checking Rose's vital signs, the nurse left. A moment later, DI Hardy entered.

Rose shifted deeper under her covers with a quiet groan, feeling exposed in the thin white and blue hospital gown. She cringed at the unpleasant sound of metal against tile as the man dragged the chair closer to her bed. Hardy sat down and leaned forward, but did not speak for a minute. He simply looked at her, and she had the feeling he was appraising her, studying for flaws.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked, finally breaking the awkward silence.

Rose could not tell if he was concerned, or was simply employing social graces.

"I'm okay. Considering," Rose rasped.

"Good...good." He pressed his lips together and nodded. "I have a suspect in custody...just wrapped up questioning him downstairs."

"He's in hospital?" Rose asked.

"He checked himself into A&E early this morning. Seems he thought he was having a heart attack, but it was really a deep bruise from a swift kick to the sternum. Nicely done, Ms. Lewis." The DI nodded curtly. "He said you had a helluva roundhouse. Where did you learn to kick like that?"

"Telly. Used to fancy that American telly programme, _Alias_."

"Not familiar with that one."

Rose mentally kicked herself, quickly recognising her error: the programme was from the other universe.

"Probably equal parts adrenaline and luck," he said with a sniff, looking away for a moment. "Like those people who are able to lift a car when they see someone trapped underneath."

"Yeah. Probably right." Rose cleared her throat. _If only you knew what monsters I've defended Earth against_ she thought to herself; but then she reminded herself that she was no longer the Defender of the Earth. She was Gwyneth Lewis. "So, did he say what he wanted? Why'd he choose my place? Not exactly a goldmine." Rose was genuinely curious.

"Well, he wasn't looking for Italian Roast." Hardy briefly cracked a smile.

Rose blushed as the memory of flirting the night before while under the influence of the narcotic pain killer came flooding back.

“No. He said he wanted something a little lighter. Kenyan, perhaps," he said dryly.

Rose tried not to smile, but it was difficult, and her smile won out.

Alec arched a single eyebrow at her, and then stood from his chair. "He hasn't told me why. Yet. I think he is in a bit of shock that you put him in hospital." Slowly, he walked out of the room without saying another word.

Rose strained to push the image of the man out of her mind. She knew now that last night she had not been flirting with Alec Hardy, but with the ghost of the Doctor. This man, Detective Inspector Alec Hardy, was most certainly _not_ the Doctor.

oOo

As she promised, Ellie visited Rose that afternoon.

"So we have a suspect," Ellie said with a cheerful smile.

"Yeah, DI Hardy came by this morning and told me."

Ellie pulled a face. "Really?"

"Why? Is that odd?" Rose asked, responding to the look on Ellie's face.

"Oh...no reason."

"Oh come on. Now you _have_ to tell me," asked Rose, with an eye roll and a smile.

“Seriously, it's nothing!" Ellie back pedalled.

Rose rolled her eyes again. "I don't believe you, but I'll let it pass. For now," she said with good humour. "So, the A&E doc last night... he said the two of you are friends?" Rose asked as she raised the back of her bed.

"I suppose we are," Ellie said seriously. "Shared experience tends to do that."

"You know, I didn't know you were with the police. How come you never said anything?" Rose asked, curious. They had shared several conversations over the fence since the day Rose moved to Broadchurch, and the subject had never come up.

"I just assumed you already knew," she said with a shrug. "Everyone in town knows everything about me." Ellie looked out the window.

"Well count me in the dark. And you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Maybe you need a friend who doesn't know everything about you, yeah?” 

“Yeah. Maybe I do." Ellie smiled, and she looked five years younger. "I'm sure you'll find out everything there is to know on your own. Sooner or later..."

"Broadchurch likes to gossip, then?"

"Got that right. Often helpful to us coppers." Ellie laughed. "When are they springing you from this place?"

"Tomorrow sometime."

"If you don't mind me asking, why are they keeping you in hospital so long? Dr. Solomon said you didn't have a concussion or skull fracture."

Rose's throat went dry. "I have a complication."

Ellie furrowed her brow and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You're not ill are you?"

"No, nothing like that. I was in a car crash. Pre-existing head injury. I don't want to talk about it, if you don't mind," she said quietly, looking down at her hands.

"Okay," Ellie agreed.

Rose quickly changed the subject. She asked about the best hair salon, a good dentist, and where to find good chips, which of all places, were sold by a vendor right outside of police headquarters. The women talked for a while longer until Ellie looked at her watch. "I really need to go. Do you need a ride home tomorrow?"

"Um, actually, yeah. I sort of forgot about that."

"Well consider your transportation sorted." Ellie stood up to leave. "Don't let them stick you with too many needles now."

As Ellie entered the corridor, the duty physician called after her. "May I have a word, Detective?"

"Yeah, sure. What can I do for you, Dr. Singh?"

"I had a chat with Dr. Solomon about our patient this morning when he went off duty, and I understand you are Ms. Lewis' neighbour?"

Ellie nodded.

"Ms. Lewis needs someone to keep an eye on her. Not all the time, just check on her once or twice a day. A phone call, a knock on the door. If you don't see activity for a while, would you check on her?"

"Course."

oOo

In the early evening, Chloe Latimer came to visit along with a pretty, dark-haired woman.

“Gwen! I'm so glad you're alright! I was so worried." Chloe tied a cheerful smiley-face balloon onto the bedrail. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought my mom with me. We were out having dinner. Dad is home taking care of the baby. Mom, this is my boss, Gwen Lewis."

"Hi, I'm Beth Latimer," the woman said with a smile. "Thank you for hiring Chloe. The job has been so good for her. Sorry this happened to you."

"Have a seat, won't you?" Rose offered. "So Chloe, did the cops make a mess of the shop dusting for prints? I hope they didn't leave black dust everywhere."

Chloe and her mother looked at each other awkwardly, remembering having to clean their own home the year before.

"The shop isn't too bad. I stayed around until the police left. There's some yellow police tape posted across the door to the storage room, and they didn't dust for fingerprints in the public part of the shop at all."

Rose made a sound of relief. "I wasn't looking forward to coming back to that."

"Do you want me to open up the shop tomorrow?" asked Chloe.

"I can't ask you to do that all on your own, Chloe." Rose shook her head.

"And why not? I am your employee. Isn't this what I'm supposed to do? You know, my job?"

"But you've never been all alone before. You sure you're alright with handling everything?"

"I promise not to spill any more milk," Chloe sing-songed.

Rose and Chloe both laughed.

"How about I just open up from six o'clock to one or something like that?" suggested the young woman. "Day wouldn't be a total loss, then."

Rose thought for a moment. "Well, I guess that would be alright." She paused. "Thanks. You know the code to the door and alarm, right?"

"Mmm hmm."

"You should be able to take the yellow tape down. DI Hardy told me they have a suspect in custody."

"So you've met DI Hardy then?" asked Beth.

“Yeah. He took my statement last night, then dropped by this morning to tell me that the bloke turned himself in."

"Already? That was fast," Chloe said, relief on her face. "He must be getting better at his investigative skills then."

"Chloe, that's enough," Beth said firmly.

Chloe made a sound of displeasure. Rose could feel tension crackling between the mother and daughter.

"I hear I get to go home tomorrow," Rose said, breaking the awkward atmosphere. "Detective Baker is going to take me home."

"Oh, that's nice of her. You're neighbours, after all," offered Beth.

"You know Ellie?" Rose asked.

Beth swallowed hard then smiled, not quite happily. "Yes. Our sons-"

"Best friends. They used to be best friends," interrupted Chloe. "Mom and Ellie don't see each other much anymore. Had a falling out a while back."

The awkward silence returned.

"Well, Chloe, I think we better head out for dinner."

“Thanks for coming by," Rose said.

As soon as mother and daughter were out of the room, Rose heard them arguing out in the hallway.

"How can you just...defend that man, Mom! The way he treated our family..."

"You had no business telling her about Ellie and me. Some things are private, Chloe. And as for Hardy, he did his job, and that's all that matters."

"And you need to stop being angry at her..."

The conversation faded, but from what Chloe had said, it was clear that she did not like the Inspector. 

_Why does she even have an opinion about DI Hardy?_ Rose wondered to herself.

oOo

Ellie took Rose home the next day. Tiger trotted to Rose's side and sniffed her legs before returning to his plush bed by the front window.

"I am going to bring over tea tonight, so please don't get up and make anything for yourself."

"I really don't need you to make me dinner," Rose protested.

"Of course you do. Now get comfy on the sofa or in your room, or wherever, and let me fuss for a bit. Besides, the longer I am here with you, the longer I am away from the station." Ellie went into the kitchen and turned on the electric kettle. "How do you like your tea, Gwen?"

"I take it black, ta." Rose sat on the sofa, and pulled a soft blanket over herself. She had discovered the house was draughty, and it also took a while for it to warm up after turning on the furnace. "I saw on the news this morning that we're set to get hit by a big storm tonight. How reliable is the electricity?"

"It's rubbish. Do you have a torch and lanterns about?" she asked from the kitchen.

"Somewhere. Probably." She stood from the sofa, and her head began spin. "Whoa..." Rose steadied herself on the arm of a side chair.

"You sure you shouldn't still be in hospital?" Ellie asked, concerned.

"Stood up too quickly, I think," explained Rose. She recovered quickly, and went in search of the storm supplies. "I'm tired of hospitals anyway." Rose found a torch and flipped it on and off. "Found a torch."

“This street gets knocked about quite a bit, being so close to the sea. Sometimes the stream overflows, floods the road, and we are cut off from town."

"Really? What other things didn't the house agent tell me?" Rose laughed quietly and accepted the cup of tea from Ellie.

The ladies returned to the sofa.

"I should let you know that your case is still open. I heard from the DI this morning that the bloke who broke into your shop claimed to have an accomplice - his brother. There were a two sets of fingerprints in the back room that were obviously out of place. One belonged to the man who clobbered you, and the other were his brother's who he implicated. So evidence suggests that both were in there, and one left before you stumbled on spanner man."

Rose took a sip of tea. "Did he say what they were looking for?"

"The unusual," said Ellie with a shrug. "Money."

Rose snorted. "Certainly picked the wrong shop if he was looking for cash."

"We're looking for the brother, but there is the possibility he's already left town. Neither of them are locals."

Rose yawned widely and closed her eyes for a moment.

"You're tired. I should go so you can get some rest." Ellie returned her mug to the kitchen and washed it. "I'll be back around seven with supper."

"I really don't-"

"No arguing with the police."

Rose laughed, and then settled under the blanket. She flipped on the television to the all news and weather station, and promptly fell asleep.

oOo

A powerful clap of thunder startled Rose from her slumber. Lightning illuminated the room, quickly followed by another thunderclap. The television was still on, though at some point she must have hit the "mute" button. A small map of England was superimposed over the top right corner of the screen, and the area around Broadchurch was coloured red. She turned the sound back on. The news reader was reporting on a riot in Paris, but the crawling words along the bottom of the screen were replaced by a the recognisable red letters of a weather alert. _”The Met Office has issued an official Severe Weather Warning for the Dorset coastline. Lyme Regis, West Bay, Broadchurch and Weymouth should expect gale force winds, driven rain leading to power outages, downed trees and and river flooding. Hasten to high ground and seek shelter if you are near areas which habitually experience flooding.”_

The painkillers Rose had taken a few hours before made recollection difficult. She vaguely recalled something about flooding, and that the stream down the road was known to overflow and cut them off from the town when it there was a rainstorm. Now she was wide awake. She muted the television again, and retrieved her laptop to find out if there was any way to get into town a different way.

 _Broadchurch Dorset_ Rowe typed. She had not researched the town before moving to Broadchurch, choosing to rely upon Pete's arrangements. Frankly, she had not cared where she ended, just that it was far from her life in London, and had no ties to Torchwood.

So when the first full page of search results returned the combination of words, _Danny, Latimer, Child, Murder_ she audibly gasped.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

_The water is rising fast, swallowing up her street. Lightning strikes the ground all around her, and the wind is buffeting her so that she fears she will blow away. She knows she must get to higher ground, but her body is so cold from the rain and wind that she is frozen in place._

_”I knew I shouldn't have worn this bloody jacket!" she says. The rain is disintegrating the blue leather, and she knows once it is gone, she will be completely vulnerable._

_”Where am I supposed to go?" she screams into the wind, but there is no one to hear her._

_She looks up the hill, and now she can see the outline of someone standing at the very top of the street. A tall, thin man is stalwart against the storm, though his long coat is billowing wildly in the gale. He's aiming a blue torch at her, like a beacon in the darkness._

_She hears a voice, barely audible, only a whisper. "Rose... Rose..."_

_When she reaches the top of the hill, the man is gone._

_The storm calms, and it is suddenly daylight, though the sky grey and sullen. She hears Him say her name, so she turns and reaches out for the man she loves._

_But when she looks at the arms that are holding her close, she sees that he is not wearing brown pinstripes He is wearing black, and his stubble hurts her face._

Rose woke up from the dream, gasping and shaking. She ran her hand through her short hair and felt like crying from the weight of her grief. Memories washed over her: the Doctor she lost; the pain of crossing the Void; facing failure each time; the guilt and devastation she would bear for the rest of her life, believing that her actions had killed her friends; that she had run from everything, including her own family; of the irony of finding herself living in a town suffering from its own pain of loss, and how everyone here seemed to be living half of a life... it was an oh-so-familiar existence.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember the last time she felt true happiness. It seemed so long ago that it was almost a dream, as if that happiness had not even been real, or if the memories belonged to someone else.

“Why, out of the billions of people on Earth, did the Doctor's double have to live here?" Rose whispered to herself. She knew without a doubt that Alec Hardy was not the same man as the Doctor. However, that fact made it no less difficult to see his face, with that permanent scowl of his, sure to be wandering in and out of her life.

"I'm not going to think about Him. No more." Rose dried her damp eyes, and shook away the painful thoughts.

She was glad that she had moved herself off of the sofa around midnight. Her house was frigid, but her duvet was keeping the cold at bay. Rose sat up, and opened her laptop, first checking the Met Office website. The storm had been intense, but the most damaging winds and rain had bypassed Broadchurch, and only minor flooding had occurred. The waters had already receded.

Next, Rose logged into her anonymous online email account. She had set it up for the sole purpose of keeping in touch with her stepfather. She began to type an update.

_I’m sure you probably heard about the storm last night. The wind was bad, and the news this morning said we got two inches of rain overnight. Thankfully, the house is still in one piece. Had a bit of minor flooding down the road a ways, but the water receded, and I'm no longer stranded on my street._

_I’m curious about something. What made you pick this town, Gemini? What made you think that this was the place that would help me move on? There is a man here who looks exactly like the Doctor. I've seen him a few times now, and every single time I saw his face, it felt like I was stabbed in the heart._

She stared at her words, then deleted the sentences and rewrote them. Pete had been helpful, generous and trustworthy, and did not deserve this treatment.

_Did you know about the boy who was murdered here last year? Such a tragedy. Turns out I live next to the killer's ex-wife. She is a lovely person, and I think maybe I have made a friend in her._

_I’m curious. Why did you pick this specific town?_

_I’ll be in touch. Tell Mrs. Gemini I love her and am having fun in the Island Paradise._

She did not tell him about the break-in or being assaulted, worried that he would try to convince her to give up the ruse and return home. Holding her breath, she clicked, _Send._

Rose set aside her laptop and gingerly cuddled back under the covers, settling onto her side. While the suture site on the back of her head was still sore to the touch, the most recent dose of paracetamol was controlling the lingering headache. Working for Torchwood had forced her to develop a high tolerance for pain.

After twenty minutes, her eyes were still wide open. Rose sat up, and picked up her mobile. She texted the paperboys, apologised for the unexplained closure of the shop the past few days, and promised to reimburse them for their lost revenue. Against her better judgement, Rose decided to open her shop at the regular time, six o'clock. She had forty-five minutes before the boys would arrive to pick up their bundles.

oOo

Hardy sauntered into his office. He had awoken to the sound of dripping in his bedroom. He had run out of tea, and he hated the tea in the break room. To compound his misery, his suspect in the Zoka break-in and assault case had stopped talking, and had requested legal assistance.

"Good morning," said Ellie cheerfully as she entered his office. She held a paper coffee cup that said _Zoka_.

"What's so good about it? My bloody roof is leaking, the open and shut Gwen Lewis case is buggered up, and I need a cup of tea."

"There's tea in the break room. And sorry about the roof. Do you need the name of a repairman?" she asked, wanting to be helpful.

“Yes!" he exclaimed in mock glee.

"It's too early to be a prat, Alec. Stop it," Ellie chastised.

”Never mind the roofer. I'll patch it myself."

"You? Swinging a hammer?" she snorted.

"Can we focus on the case, not my presumed lack of DIY skill?" Alec huffed and leaned on his desk.

"So what's going on with Gwen's case that has you narked?" Ellie asked. She set her paper cup on the DI's desk.

"Melvin Rowe asked for a solicitor." Alec fiddled with a pencil.

"So?" Ellie asked.

"He's stopped talking, and I think there is more to this case than a break-in and assault." Alec tossed the pencil back onto his desk. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "Ms. Lewis said something while she was in hospital that got me thinking. She wondered why anyone would want to break into her shop. It was late in the evening, the other shops were closed. She's right. There are much better targets on that block. What about the “What about the coin and stamp shop? Or the watch repair? Why not them?"

Ellie thought for a moment. "Maybe they were looking for something specific?"

Alec sat up abruptly. "What do we know about Ms. Lewis?"

"You can't possible think that she...oh come on, Alec!" Ellie rolled her eyes and looked around the room.

“She moved here, what, less than a month ago you said? Why would she move to this dull place?" He leaned forward and folded his hands on his desk.

Ellie shrugged, nonchalant. "She told me she needed a fresh start."

"Everyone says that," he said, squinting.

"I moved into my new house for the same reason," Ellie said, growing heated. "You are such a..." Ellie pursed her lips, holding back the foul name. "People have real lives with real problems, Alec. Can you even consider the possibility that maybe she's telling the truth? Or is everyone a liar until proven trustworthy in your mind?"

"I am not accusing her of anything. Just looking at all the possibilities."

"You are such a stroppy bastard. She's a nice person, and I believe her. She has given me absolutely no reason not to take her at face value."

"So Ms. Lewis is a nice person. There are nice criminals out there Baker. There are nice people who are running from their past. Maybe _Nice Gwen Lewis_ is hiding from something she did? Maybe her past is catching up with her?”

“You're a knob."

Wearily, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"Why are you still sitting here, Baker? Go do some...detecting. And I need tea."

"Get your own bloody tea," she said.

"That's get your own bloody tea, sir," he muttered under his breath.

Alec saw the empty paper coffee cup that Ellie had left on his desk. He picked it up, then tossed it in the bin.

"I wonder if Zoka sells tea as well as coffee?"

oOo

Rose sat behind the counter, reading a book, but she was having a hard time focusing on the speech that the devilishly handsome pirate’s was giving. If her physician knew she was at work, he would not be pleased. Being in the shop, however, was proving to be no more or less restful than being home.

The clock on the wall indicated that it was nearly two-fifteen. Only two dozen customers had graced her shop since she opened. Between themselves, they had bought an Aero bar, a few bags of crisps, more tabloids than traditional newspapers and a handful of copies of The Echo. Ellie had bought the one and only cup of coffee sold today, and her new friend had lectured her “new friend had lectured her, kindly and quietly, about the necessity for rest.

She slipped off of the stool and headed for the glass-front pastry case. She had made arrangements for leftover pastries to go to the new Senior Centre at St. Luke's every other day, and Reverend Coates would be by to pick them up later. The senior centre would be getting all of them tonight...except one. Rose reached in and pulled out a chocolate filled croissant.

She took her pastry and ever-present insulated tumbler full of tea to one of the two cafe tables and sat down to eat her snack.

The tinkling bells on the door sounded, and in walked Inspector Hardy. Squinting, he looked around the shop. "You've changed the place. Better than it used to be I suppose."

"Detective Hardy,” Rose said. “Do you have some news?" She stood up, leaving her food on the table.

"Nope. Just decided to stop by and get a better look at your place in the daylight. Zoka. Odd name, that." He scratched behind his ear.

"It means... Oh, never mind," she sighed, seeing that he was perusing the newspaper selection.

He made a quiet grunting sound. "Aren't you going to try and sell me a cup of coffee or tea?" he asked, pushing his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah. Sorry. What would you like?" Rose moved behind the espresso bar and waited through a short silence.

"What do you have?" He leaned on the counter, and smiled at her widely, but it was more the smile of the Cheshire Cat than a friendly patron.

"I can make any espresso drink you like."

"Can't have coffee," he said plainly. "I'll have tea."

"I have a variety of teas and infusions. Black, herbal, and green."

"Black tea."

"There are a few different kinds of black." Rose handed him a long, narrow, laminated card.

"When the bloody hell did tea become so complicated?" he muttered.

Rose cleared her throat nervously. "Um, the Earl Grey is nice...if you like Earl Grey."

"I suppose that'll do." He sounded resigned.

"Okay then. Would you like it for here or to take away?"

"More decisions?" he protested, with a frown.

"If you have it here, I prepare it in a teapot." She held up small personal-sized white stoneware teapot. "Takeaway..." Rose held up a paper cup.

He put on that Cheshire Cat smile again. "I suppose I should go for the proper Zoka Experience." He overemphasised the name of the shop. "I'll stay."

"'Kay." She had hoped he would choose paper.

Hardy watched every move Rose made as she prepared his tea. She drew hot water from the instant heated water spigot on the espresso machine and then swirled it around the pot a few times before pouring the water into the sink. Next, she pulled a glass canister from the shelf and scooped loose tea into the teapot. She drew more hot water directly into the teapot, and then put on the lid. As she had with the teapot, she heated a matching white stoneware mug with hot water.

“Impressive. So where do you come from that you make such complicated tea?"

"London," she choked out. "I'm from London, and it's hardly complicated Detective Hardy, it's just the proper way to make tea. My Mum always made tea the proper way, and I certainly didn't grow up posh. I grew up in a flat on a council estate."

Hardy nodded as he absorbed the information.

"Would you like a pastry to go with that?" she asked before chewing her lip nervously.

"Can't. No pastries allowed. Have to keep this trim figure, now don't I?" The Cheshire Cat grin reappeared. "How much do I owe you for this complicated tea?"

"Nothing," she said. "Consider it a small thank you for finding the bloke who bashed me over the head." Rose smiled.

"No, thanks."

"Why not? It's only a pot of tea. It's the least I can do." Rose leaned on the counter, and crinkled her nose as she smiled.

"No, really. I want to pay for it." He pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

"Ahhh. Right then. That...that will be three pounds twenty-five, please."

"Blimey! That's expensive!” he protested. "What does a scoop of tea cost? Thirty P at the most?”

“You did say I was impressive," Rose said lightly, trying to ease the tension.

“What I _meant_ was your _preparation_ was impressive.”

“That's two compliments you've given me now, Inspector Hardy. First, you complimented my self defence skills, and just now, my tea. A girl might start getting ideas." Rose could not stop herself from teasing this tightly-wound man.

Redness spread over Hardy's cheeks, and Rose pressed her lips together, as she tried not to laugh.

He cleared his throat and handed her four pounds. "Keep the change." Hardy picked up his pot and mug, and sat at the table farthest from where Rose was standing.

Rose stood silently for a moment, then turned away from him and leaned against the counter. "You know, I was just being friendly. Not like I was asking you out on a date or something, Detective. It was just a pot of tea." The minute the words came out, she regretted them. She did not see his reaction, and she wondered if he blushed again.

"Why don't you join me, and we can have a chat? I obviously interrupted your own tea."

Rose slowly moved her things to his table. She sat down gingerly, and took a sip from her tumbler.

Hardy settled into his chair, his lanky frame sprawled over the small piece of furniture. “So you’re from London. What kept you busy there?”

“I was a secretary.”

“Where?” He crossed his arms.

“A private security firm.”

“Why’d you leave?”

Rose cleared her throat. “Your tea is probably done. I forgot to get you a strainer." She returned quickly, placed the strainer on his cup, and poured his tea for him.

"Does everyone get such personal service?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"No. Just you. Then again, you're my first customer to ask for the Authentic Zoka Experience. Make sure you pass along a good word."

"Why'd you leave?" Hardy asked a second time.

"My boss was inappropriate."

"Why Broachurch?"

"Why _not_ Broadchurch?" she countered.

"Why a shop? A newsagent's in particular. Isn't this place a bit seedy for a woman like you?”

"What the hell does that mean? Woman like _me_?" Rose, for the first time, raised her voice a bit.

"What with your designer clothing and complicated tea..." he waved his hand and pulled a face.

"What else do you want to know about me, Inspector? My shoe size? Why I'm all alone? How about this one." She paused. "Why would possibly drive a twenty-eight year old woman to strike out on her own?" Rose's eyes flashed, but she controlled her voice. "I know when someone is being interrogated, Inspector. So why are you asking me all of these questions? Don't you think you think that the person you should be questioning is the bloke who ran this place before I bought it?"

"Tell me why I should I talk to him." Hardy crossed his arms and pressed his lips into a firm line.

Rose sighed, and calmed herself. She refused to let this man upset set her, even if he wore her beloved Doctor's face.

"Because I remembered something when I opened the shop this morning. A few days ago, someone knocked on the back door. It was really early, even before the newspaper boys come to pick up their bundles. So I hear this knock, I opened up thinking it was one of the boys just a bit early, and there was this kid. He was fourteen, fifteen at the most. He looked at me, and said, 'You're not Donny.' Then he said, 'Shit, what am I gonna do now?' Then he took off like a rocket."

"Do you think you could ID the kid?" asked Hardy, rather animated.

"Probably. It was dark, but my eyesight is pretty sharp, and I have a good memory for faces."

Hardy pulled out his notepad and scrawled a few lines. He shoved it back into his pocket. "Your place is... _nice_." He nodded. "I'll put in a good word at the station."

"Thanks." She paused. "You know what Zoka means? It's Chinese, and no, I don't know the dialect," she chuckled. "It means new beginnings, to create, to transform. I moved here because I wanted... No. I _needed_ a new life."

"Thank you very much for the very fine tea, Ms. Lewis. I will be back to try out the other kinds of tea you have to offer. May I have a paper cup, please?"

"Sure. And Detective, would you please just call me Gwen? Since it seems you're gonna be in and out of here often, Gwen is so much easier to say. Fewer pesky syllables."

He nodded, and there was even the hint of a smile on his lips.

oOo

"Pizza! Pizza!" Tony Tyler squealed as his father opened the flap of the cardboard box. The savoury scent of garlic and spicy Italian sausage filled the kitchen.

"Son, this pizza is a secret, just between us two men." Pete placed a slice of pizza on a paper plate and shoved it in front of strawberry blonde Tony. "Don't tell your mum."

"Why Daddy?" whispered the young boy. He picked up a slice, and then chased the end of the wedge as it flopped over his hand.

"Because of...reasons. Now eat up lad, quick, before your mum gets home."

The back door opened, and Jackie walked into the kitchen, toting two canvas grocery bags. "Peter Alan Tyler, I saw a delivery boy from Alonzo's pull out of our driveway! Do I smell sausage?"

"It was for Tony."

"I am supposed to believe that Tony has eaten three slices of an extra-large sized sausage pizza?" Jackie said, one hand on her hip. "Honestly, Pete. Your cholesterol is sky high. Your cardiologist is going to clobber you! You have an appointment next week!"

"My cholesterol is high because of stress, not sausage, Jacks," he said to his wife under his breath. "And the new medicine is working."

She smirked at him, but then kissed him sweetly before patting his cheek as a mild admonition.

He turned away from her and looked out the window. He hated to lie to his wife, but Rose had made him promise to not tell her the truth. "I heard from Rose today."

"Oh! How's Fiji? Did she finally get her camera fixed? I am so glad she decided to take this holiday. Daily massages, a nice tan and lots of fruity drinks on the beach are just what she needs." Jackie pulled a slice of pizza from the box while she spoke, rapid fire. "How much longer is she staying on Fiji?"

"I think that she heads to New Zealand in two weeks. She told me that now she plans on touring by bicycle." Pete continued to speak while not looking directly at Jackie, avoiding eye contact. Pete was very accustomed to lying as a matter of course at Torchwood, but never before had he outright lied to his wife.

"My legs hurt just thinking about it," Jackie said, reaching for a Vitex from the refrigerator. "Who wants to work that hard while on holiday? A drink with an umbrella, and a fit pool boy in a Speedo keeping 'em coming...now that's a perfect holiday."

"Am I going to have to keep an eye on you next time we go to the beach?"

"Not if you wear your Speedo, Mr. Tyler," flirted Jackie. "Has she said when she's coming back home to us?"

"Would you want to come back?" he asked evasively.

"Right about that. This dreary weather and that job of hers...no wonder she's staying away so long. Tell you one thing, you better not take me to Fiji. I'd probably never come back," Jackie said with a twinkle in her eyes.”

“I'll keep that in mind," he teased.

Guilt mounted for lying, but nonetheless, he felt relieved that his update had satisfied Jackie.

oOo

Hardy stormed into the common area. "Baker, my office."

Ellie stood from her desk, bracing herself for the impending tirade.

"Do you have any reason to believe that the newsagent has been serving as a drug distribution centre?"

"Alec, I have something-"

Alec interrupted. "Gwen Lewis had an encounter the other morning. It was before she was hurt. A kid came to her back door very, very early. When she opened up, he seemed surprised and scared that Jones wasn't there. The boy was looking for someone called 'Donny.'"

"Donny...Donny... Why does that ring a bell?" she mused.

"Remember that note we found on the girl who overdosed and died in the bus station toilet?"

"Yeah. Phone number in her pocket with the name 'Donny.'"

Ellie smirked, deciding to hold onto her piece of news until it would have maximum effect. "So when did Gwen tell you this?"

Hardy held up his cup.

She drew in a dramatic breath, feigning disbelief. "You didn't."

"When did tea become so complicated?" he asked grumpily.

"You actually questioned Gwen Lewis, didn't you?" She shook her head. "Alec, you are unbelievable."

"That's what I've been told." He nodded, unfazed. "Did you find anything out while I was gone?"

"Yeah, I did. Unlike you, I used my detective skills to follow a hunch, instead of harassing the victim."

"I did not harass her."

"I bet if I call her right now, she will tell me what an enormous arse you are."

"She told me she moved here because she needed a new life," he said with wicked half smile.

"Again with the reasons for moving? Come off it, Alec. When are you going to-"

"Stop lecturing me. I believe her, Ellie." He leaned forward, hands clasped on his desk. He looked Ellie straight in the eyes. "I don't think for a minute that she's involved in the crime. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Oh." Ellie paused. "You do? I mean, don't? Don't think she's involved I mean?"

"I...do not."

"You know Alec, I was just about to give you a very interesting piece of information before you interrupted me so very rudely."

"Yeah, well, sorry..it's a habit.”

Ellie laughed. "So after our talk this morning, I decided to find out what I could about Donald Jones.”

“You learned something important, didn't you?" he asked.

"Looks like the newsagent wasn't selling just newspapers. He was found last night in Liverpool with a gram of cocaine in his pocket, and a knife wound in his back.

Hardy squeezed his eyes shut and then scrubbed his hand down his face. " _Please_ tell me he's alive."

Ellie shook her head. "There were prints found in the room where the body was found. Those prints match the second set of prints that we found in Gwen's storage area."

"Have the results come back on either set? Ours or the ones from Liverpool?" he asked Ellie.

"Yes. Ours came back with a match. They belong to Marcus Rowe, Melvin's twin brother." She paused and her face became serious. "Alec, he's not a nice criminal.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter includes the Hardy and Ellie discussing criminal violence.**
> 
> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

"Tell me more,” Hardy demanded.

"I sent you an email with a link to the file."

Hardy slipped on his glasses, then accessed Marcus Rowe's criminal record. "Give me the highlights." 

"Marcus Aurelius Rowe. Caucasian, blue eyes, black hair. DOB October 15, 1984. 6 feet 2 inches. Muscular build. Goes by the street name Kitty." 

"Kitty? Is that a joke?" asked Hardy. 

"Let me finish, Mr. Ants-in-his-Pants." She squinted her eyes at him, and shook her head. "Honestly. A four year old has more patience than you do." 

"I don't have all day, Baker."

"Marcus has got several known tattoos, including a rather grotesque zombified Hello Kitty on his upper right bicep, and HELLO KITTY spelled across his knuckles." 

"Well, it's a choice," he said, holding back a rare chuckle. "I suppose people might underestimate just how dangerous a man with a pink kitty tattoo could be." Alec turned his attention to his computer and clicked on the man's picture. "However, looking at his mug shot, I don't think lack of intimidation is a problem." The man had a two inch long scar under one eye and another scar through his eyebrow, splitting it in two. 

"Charming isn't he? Marcus and Melvin, twins, born in Birmingham. Mum was a teacher, Dad an auto mechanic. Mum died in a car crash when the boys were ten. Dad took it really hard, started drinking a lot, was cited for driving pissed a few times, and lost his job at the garage. Marcus gets caught stealing from local shops, and getting in fights at school. Family moves to Liverpool. Melvin seems to be the grounded one through all of this, does well in school while Marcus is a troublemaker. Marcus stops showing up for school during year nine. And then there are big changes. Dad gets involved in the local drug scene, first dealing, and then apparently, becomes the local boss’s muscle. Dad goes too far, and kills someone. Goes to prison for murder when the twins are seventeen." 

"I don't suppose you took a look at Dad's file?" Hardy asked, looking at her over the top of his glasses. 

"What do you take me for, an idiot?" Ellie shook her head and smirked as she cursed under her breath. 

"So are you going to tell me or not? Were either of the brothers implicated in the murder?" Hardy asked. 

Ellie shook her head. "Looks like the Liverpool police had the same thought, as both were pulled in for questioning. Melvin had a rock solid alibi, as he was playing football in an FLYA match. He even provided pictures of himself shooting the winning goal. Marcus, on the other hand, had no alibi. He was eventually cleared, though for lack of evidence. Further, Marcus left town before the trial. Melvin was there for his dad, though." 

Hardy leaned back in his chair and cupped his hands behind his head, thinking. "So Dad was into distribution, the enforcer for a local drug kingpin." 

"The official charge was mayhem and murder," Ellie added. 

"Really? Mayhem?" Alec guffawed. "Hardly ever see that charge." 

"Well it was certainly warranted. Before he stabbed the bloke in the back, he cut off his ears. At trial, when asked why he would do such a thing, Rowe said the guy didn't listen to the boss man's instructions." 

"Stabbed in the back, eh? Same way Donald Jones was murdered. Like father, like son?" Alec thought out loud. "Donald Jones was found with a knife wound in the back, and Marcus Rowe's prints were found at the scene." 

"But the problem is Donald Jones was found in the men's toilet of the pub that Marcus practically lived at," Ellie said, negatively. "I'm sure it would be safe to assume that Marcus used that toilet a time or two." 

"The fingerprints prove he was there _at least_ once," asserted Hardy with a nod.

"Yeah, and his counsel will argue that he would have left prints every time he peed. Oh my god! When did I become such a pessimist?" Ellie whinged. 

"There's hope for you yet," he winked at Ellie. 

"Anyway, back to this case. It definitely seems as though Marcus took over the family business. On his eighteenth birthday, he was arrested for drug possession with intent to use and distribute. 

"Happy birthday." 

Ellie snorted, and then continued. "The drug charges kept coming. Relatively little stuff for a while, but then he starts getting charged with assault. First it's brawling at the pub - giving and getting black eyes, bruises. But then he's breaking blokes' bones. Guys are showing in the A&E with concussions, broken fingers, even ligature marks." 

"Why isn't this man in prison?" Hardy asked, confused. 

"He makes deals. Gives names. Always trading for shortened jail times or waived fines. And he always has money, never has to post bond," Ellie explained. 

"What about Melvin? What has he been doing all this time?" 

"He decided against getting A Levels, went to a trades school, studied auto mechanics. He's a good kid who became a good citizen. Has worked at the same shop since he was certified. Model employee. He doesn't have so much as a parking ticket." 

"Bit cliche'...the good twin bad twin thing," Hardy mused. "What's he doing bashing Gwen Lewis over the head, then?" 

"I'm not done with Marcus. Let me finish. So he's in Liverpool, living with a woman from Belfast named Kathryn Magee. She works at the pub where he is getting into most of his fights. This pub has a pretty shady reputation...illegal gambling, drug deals, prostitution, and the like. And Rowe practically lives there." 

"I think I'm going to need to diagram the players on a whiteboard so I don't get confused," he said snidely. 

"Not a bad idea. Anyway, there is an elderly lady who lives in the flat above Marcus and Kathryn's, and she constantly makes 999 calls complaining about loud arguments, blaring music, the sound of furniture being knocked about, and the like. Said she was worried that maybe the woman was being beaten." 

"Did the neighbour ever see any bruises on Magee, or other indications of violence?" 

"Nope. And Magee never filed a complaint against Rowe, either. But last fall, Magee moved. And not just out, she went very far away." Ellie paused dramatically. 

"You're going to make me ask where, aren't you?" Hardy complained.

Ellie smiled and nodded.

"Just bloody tell me, Baker."

"New Zealand. Pretty far, wouldn't you say? Like maybe she was running away?" 

Hardy nodded. "Expensive airfare, too. Find out how she paid. Maybe she got scared and stole from him. Or he paid her off to shut her up about something." Hardy stood up, and started pacing the room. He put his hands on his hips as he thought. 

"Funny you should suggest that. Two weeks before the woman left Marcus, the cops got an anonymous tip that Marcus stabbed a bloke...in the eye." 

Hardy cringed. "That's one way to deal with someone staring at you," Hardy said, under his breath. 

"The tipster was a woman," Ellie said slowly. "And she said it happened at that same pub and that there were lots of witnesses. She gave names." 

Alec propped himself against the desk. 

"When the cops investigated, the victim said he had been injured at work. Wouldn't press charges. None of the regulars would talk. The file was closed for lack of evidence. Kathryn Magee had already left, and Rowe vanished." 

"And do we have any idea where Marcus Rowe is now?"

"Not yet, but we'll find him. He won't be able stay out of trouble too long, given his history." 

"Send out the word to the usual narcs that we are looking for information on both of the Rowe brothers. But don't let on that we don't really know what we're looking for. Just have their pictures flashed about. Let's stir the pot, and see what comes to the surface. If there is something valuable in the back room of the newsagent's, he will be back." 

"Short of busting the walls open, we have scoured the place. So has Gwen. We have found _nothing_ back there," said Ellie. 

Hardy sighed in frustration. 

"You know Alec, there isn't a CCTV camera in the alleyway behind Gwen's shop. Maybe we should request one be installed, for everyone's safety." 

"Bloody flood of paperwork, getting one of those put up." He shook his head. "Will take too long for our needs, but yeah. Make the request. But in the meantime, make sure the shop is patrolled regularly. Like I said before, if something is there, I have a feeling that Marcus is going to come looking again." 

"And what about Gwen? Is she safe?"

Hardy stood up straight, and push his hands into his pockets. "I will make sure Gwen is safe." 

Ellie raised an eyebrow. "So it's Gwen now? _She’s my friend, and it’s awkward for me to call her Ms. Lewis. But to Hardy, Gwyneth Lewis should just be the name another victim of violent crime. I can’t recall a single time since Danny that Hardy has called a victim by their first name,_ Ellie thought to herself.

"Don't read anything into it, Baker," he said with a scowl. "She asked me to call her Gwen. I'm being polite." 

"Since when have you ever cared about manners?" Ellie said half smiling, half smirking. "Or do you have a thing for blondes?" 

"Baker..." Alec said her last name in a tone that warned her not to pursue any further. 

oOo 

Zoka's hours of operation were six am until five pm, Monday through Friday. On Saturday, the shop opened at seven am, and closed at noon, or when the last customer decided to leave. Even though modern in most ways, Pete's World still had some anachronisms, such as shops being closed on Sunday. Newspapers did not publish a Sunday edition at all, and the most important newspaper of the week was the Monday edition. 

It was Sunday, two weeks after the break-in, and Rose was feeling the need to exercise. She hadn’t yet resumed her intense Torchwood regimen, though her physician had now cleared her for all rigorous physical activity. 

She lived a few blocks from the beach. Although beaches, in general, still were unsettling, there was something about the way the light hit the sand here in Broadchurch, and how the cliffs loomed over the beach, that didn’t give her quite the same feeling of abandonment and emptiness that she felt on other shores. To the contrary, the tall cliffs felt like strong walls closing herself off from the world outside of Broadchurch. 

Rose attached the orange lead to Tiger's orange and black, appropriately tiger-striped collar, and headed out. It was mostly cloudy, but the sun broke through from time to time. The ever-present wind was blowing, and today it was a stiff breeze. Pavement turned into crushed gravel, and then gravel to sand. What had been a steady dull roar, was now rhythmic and defined. Water rolled onto land then retreated back into the ocean. 

Tiger trotted alongside as Rose put one foot in front of the other. She thought about her family. Did her mother truly believe Pete's lie that she was travelling to find herself? That she had sold her flat in only a few days to fund the spur of the moment trip? What was Tony's favourite toy nowadays? Was he still obsessed with yogurt covered sultanas mixed into half-melted ice cream? Had Torchwood hired replacement agents for her lost team? 

Rose shook that last thought from her mind, and retreated from the pain. Instead, she recalled the email that she had received from Pete the night before. He had answered the question she had emailed him on the night of the storm: "Why Broadchurch?" 

Pete's answer had been logical. The town had been under strict media scrutiny during the murder investigation and subsequent trial in the Crown Court. Now that attention had waned, and it was an even more mundane place than it had been before the murder of Danny Latimer. 

Since her shocking discovery on the night of the storm, Rose had learned quite a bit on the Internet about the Danny Latimer murder case. Chloe Latimer, her only employee, was the boy's older sister. Rose had yet to bring up the subject of Danny, telling herself if Chloe wanted to talk about him, she would. However, until that time, Rose would not broach it. 

The revelation that Ellie's husband was the murderer broke Rose's heart. She had shed a tear and grieved for her friend Ellie, and for Ellie's sons. 

While researching the murder, Rose also learned some things about Detective Inspector Hardy. He had been the one to solve Danny's case. Rose watched several videos of press conferences and police statements on YouTube. She could tell that DI Hardy had been driven to solve the case. He looked physically weak, exhausted — sickly even — in the final video announcing the arrest of Joe Miller. 

Miller had confessed, but had fiercely held onto his assertion that Danny's death had been accidental. The murder charge stood, but he was not charged with premeditation. The trial had been swift, though still shattering for the families and citizens of Broadchurch. 

Ellie took a six month leave of absence after the case was solved, and then returned to duty. But something had puzzled Rose. DI Hardy had _retired_ after solving the case. She guessed his age to be thirty-eight, forty at the most. That seemed awfully young to retire, especially on a public servant's pension. Hardy was off of the force for a full year, but then came out of retirement a few months before she arrived. Maybe the case had emotionally and physically exhausted him, and a long rest was what he needed. She knew it was none of her business, but she was curious. Rose thought she might ask Ellie about it, if she ever got up the nerve. 

From behind, Rose heard the slap-slap of a runner's feet hitting the damp sand. She was the only person on this isolated part of the shore. Growing up on a council estate, traveling with the Doctor, and dangerous field work with Torchwood, had each imparted Rose with a strong sense of situational awareness. The attack in her own shop had caught her by surprise. She had not confided this to anyone, but being knocked out by the man had been a blow to her confidence. She pushed her hand into her pocket and grasped the small canister of pepper spray she always kept in her jacket when she went for a walk or run. She had no reason to believe she was in danger, but she would never let her guard down again. 

The runner passed her on her right. Unmistakably, it was Inspector Hardy, but he neither stopped nor acknowledged her as he ran by. His somewhat shaggy hair flapped in the wind, and his light grey tee shirt was dark with sweat between his shoulder blades. He wore black running shorts that exposed runner's legs, muscular and lithe. 

"Inspector Hardy," Rose called. 

The sweaty man slowed, and looked over his left shoulder. He was wearing sunglasses, so Rose could not see his reaction. He stopped, and it did not take long for Rose to reach him. He stretched his arms up over his head and then swung them in wide circles to stay limber. 

"Didn't recognise you with that hood up over your head," Hardy said. "Kind of a lonely, isolated place for a walk, isn't it, Ms. Lewis?" 

"It isn't anymore. Now there are two people here," she said with a smile. "And I told you to call me Gwen." 

"I forgot," he lied. He cleared his throat and nodded his head at the dog. "And who's this fine beast?" 

"Tiger. I adopted him from the shelter right before I moved here. Do you have a dog?" Rose asked conversationally as the thin dog approached Hardy, and then sniffed the man's trainers. 

"Not anymore. Now if The Ex had a dog like this magnificent greyhound here, instead of a mouse-size mutt she dressed up in tiny pink jumpers, maybe I would've fought her for custody." 

Realistically, it should not have surprised Rose that a single man of Alec Hardy's age had been married, widowed or divorced - several times even. Her face must have noticeably changed expression. 

"You surprised that I like your dog? Or that I'm divorced?" Hardy asked, the look on his face, inscrutable. 

"Uh..." Rose cleared her throat then nervously smiled. "Tiger is a really good dog. Really he's great," she said, giving him a non-answer. 

Hardy raised an eyebrow, then half smiled. "You _are_ surprised I was married.”

”No! No...course not." She blew air through her lips, then broke out laughing. 

"Why are you laughing then?" he asked. He took off his sunglasses off twirled them by the temple. 

"I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you. Really, I'm not." She did not answer his question. "I just don't see you as the...you don't seem like someone who would...be...have been..." Rose stopped herself from saying the M Word. 

Hardy finished her sentence. "Married?" 

"Well...yeah. You seem so...independent. And, you know, married to your job. Some might say," she said humorously, trying to recover from the awkward direction the conversation had taken. 

"I understand your surprise." He pressed his lips together into a straight line. "My Ex was surprised too," said Hardy, his face, far too serious. 

Rose thought she saw a glimmer of humour in his eyes. "How could she be surprised? I'd have thought it was pretty obvious that you wouldn't like fluffy pink jumpers on dogs. If I were her, I would've known you were all about dark blue." Rose smiled, her tongue peeking between her teeth. 

Hardy had not expected such a witty comeback. He was impressed, and kept his face straight, hoping for another round of light flirting. 

Rowe's face fell, misreading his silence for taking offence. "I'm...sorry, I really didn't mean to offend you, Inspector Hardy." Rose looked down at Tiger, then to the left, out over the water. 

"No offence taken, Gwen." His face lightened subtly. 

"Oh..." Rose smiled, but was still confused. She decided to change the subject. "Uh, any news on what that Rowe bloke was up to, breaking into my back room and bashing my head with a spanner?" 

"Yes." Hardy nodded his head, his mouth in a firm line. "I have reason to believe that Rowe's twin brother Marcus has business in Broadchurch." 

"What do you mean by _business_?" Rose asked, blinking hard. 

"We found his fingerprints in your storage room, proving he has been there before. We believe there is something in that back room of yours that perhaps he wants. Badly." 

Rose's forehead scrunched as she worried. "But really, Inspector, there isn't anything there that someone would risk breaking in for. I've looked, and I simply don't know what anyone would want." 

Hardy took one step forward, and his face was grave. "I don't want you out on your own." 

Rose rolled her eyes. For a moment, she forgot that she was no longer Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. "I am quite capable of taking care of myself. Been doing it for years. I've decided to bring Tiger with me to work from now on. He has a natural sense when things are off. And I have this." _Gwen_ , of course, was not officially authorised by the Home Office to either possess or use a weapon that discharged anything, including noxious gas, a bullet, or a beam of concentrated energy. She held up a small canister of pepper spray. 

"I shall pretend I didn't see that," Hardy said with a smirk. "If I officially knew you had that, I would have to bring you in. I'm off duty." 

"I thought detectives were never off duty," she countered, tipping her head to the side. 

"I'm making an exception. But only this one time." 

Rose bit her lip and scowled, as if deep in thought. "Would you cuff me?" Just like the few times she had teased him before, again she felt compelled to make an attempt to loosen up this serious man. 

Hardy cleared his throat. "I don't think you'd fancy the sort of cuffs we use." 

"So you think that I like cuffs?" Again, she could not help but flirt back. 

Hardy moved one step closer. Rose smiled in triumph, thinking that perhaps she had cracked the man's veneer. 

He became serious. "We don't know if the prints were left the night you were attacked by his brother, or some time before. Melvin Rowe has obtained legal representation, and has stopped talking. Marcus is nothing like Melvin. I rather think that Melvin was acting in self defence after that kick you landed. But from what I have learned about Marcus, he would not hesitate to hurt you if it meant getting what he wants. Marcus has done things that would give you nightmares, Gwen." 

She leaned over and stroked the soft hair behind Tiger's ears as she thought of things she had seen _out there_ that would make Marcus Rowe cry like a baby. She straightened back up. "Anything else I need to know?" Rose looked directly at Hardy. 

"I have ordered regular patrols of the neighbourhood around your shop. You need to keep a lookout for anything or anyone suspicious. Even a youngster who acts oddly. Marcus has been involved in criminal activity since he was barely in his teens, and I know he would not hesitate to pay innocent looking kids to spy for him." 

"I'm always careful." 

"Good. I think you probably are." He paused. "I'm not saying these things to scare you, just so that you understand the seriousness of the situation. But, you also need to know that you are safe. I promise...Gwen." 

A moment of heavy silence passed as both looked at each other with serious, worried eyes. 

"Remember, I've got mad self-defence skills?" Rose said, feeling awkward. 

"Indeed. But might I suggest that you have an alarm installed?" 

Rose smiled and flipped her hand, blithely. "Oh, what's another...two thousand pounds." 

"You might get a discount on your insurance?" he offered with a chuckle before he looked down at the sand. 

Rose didn’t want to talk about the Rowe brothers, burglar alarms, or patrol cars any longer. "So...I haven't seen you down here before. Do you run often? Here on the beach?" 

"I run more days than not. Not as far or as often as I used to, though." He squinted into the sun and looked out over the water. 

"I used to run ten miles a day, three times a week, and swim two days. Did weights four days, and yoga twice a-" 

"Ugh! Why so much exercise?" he asked with a grimace. "Were you in training for something?" 

"Just liked to be strong." She cleared her throat and paused, deciding how many lies to tell. "I...I was in a serious crash a few months ago. That's why I had to stay in hospital after my stitches last week. I have a previous head injury, and Dr. Solomon was just keeping me as a precaution," she said quietly. She pulled her hood off. "It's also why my hair is so short. Had to cut it. It wasn't always like this." 

"Short hair...it...it looks good on you." He gave the compliment nervously, but it was genuine. "How is your head doing, by the way? Did the stitches itch? I've had stitches before and the itching dearly drove me insane." 

"Oh yeah," she said with a laugh. "So glad they're gone now." 

"Well you certainly look fit to me."

Rose smiled and blushed. 

"Physically fit. I meant physically fit. For someone who hasn't been training like an Olympian for several months..." Hardy nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose I had better finish my run before I lose all incentive." 

"Right. I should be heading back home as well. Tiger is probably looking forward to his nap." She looked down at Tiger. "You are such a lazy dog, aren't you?" She ruffled his ears. "I hope to see you around again sometime. Maybe we could run together? I haven't found a running partner here, and I always like to have someone to run with. Keeps me from cheating...like heading to the bakery instead of finishing the last two miles." 

"I suppose so." With that quick answer, and without a goodbye, Hardy put his sunglasses back on, and continued his run down the beach. 

Rose stood still for a moment and watched Alec Hardy run away. Something told her he was running away from her. One minute they had been flirting about handcuffs, and the next, he had chosen not to answer a simple question about running together. 

"Tiger, do you think I scared him?" She laughed as she turned and retraced the footsteps she and her dog had left in the sand. 

oOo 

It had been nine months since the pacemaker had been put into place. Alec had been terrified to go through with the procedure, but now he was glad he had taken the risk. His strength had returned more quickly than he thought it would have. With his heartbeat regulated, oxygen was getting where it needed to go. His muscles had returning to their prior strength. Even his thinking was clearer. The regular, throbbing headaches had stopped. Chest pain was a thing of the past, and getting angry no longer made him worry that he might have a heart attack from stress. 

It hadn’t taken much argument to persuade the authorities to cancel his retirement. Now that his record had been cleared of any wrongdoing in the old, unsolved Sandbrook murder case that had cost him so much, he was seen as an asset for his sharp mind and dedication to the job. He had even been recruited by several other police departments outside of Broadchurch. 

However, Alec had found himself in a place that he did not hate, which counted for a whole lot in his mind. He decided to accept the offer of his old job back. Ellie had been offered the DI position, but she had turned it down. The last thing she wanted right now was more responsibility. 

Only two weeks after leaving the hospital, he had been cleared for all physical activity, except that which risked a physical blow to his chest. A strong punch, kick, or blow could detach the wires from the pacemaker, and cause the unit to fail. While he had never liked contact sports such as football, he had enjoyed squash, which was now on the forbidden list. Oddly, the cardiologist told him he could ski if he was very careful. He hated skiing. The Ex had been a skier, and had taken trips to the Continent to go skiing with girlfriends. Running and swimming had always been his exercises of choice, and now that he had resumed both, he was beginning to feel like a human being again. 

As for other physical activity, namely sex, he had not brought up the subject. It had been so long since he had had sex, that he had not even thought to ask about it. The physician was the one who brought it up, and simply told him he was cleared for takeoff, so to speak, and left it at that. 

"Alec Hardy, you are an idiot!" he mentally chastised himself as he ran down the beach. "Did I really just flirt about...handcuffs? That was unprofessional," Alec groaned out loud then stopped, bent over and grabbed his knees, breathing hard as he recalled that particular part of the conversation. He straightened himself up and regathered the mental energy to finish his run. 

He decided to take a different route home, and cut off at the first path he came to that took him off of the beach, and would take him into town. He slowed to a stop when he reached Zoka. A whimsical hand painted sign hung on a string from a suction cup hook on the inside of the glass door. "Sorry, Not Open," Alec read out loud to himself. "She wouldn't just have a normal Closed sign, now could she?" 

Hardy cupped his hands, and pressed his face up to the window. The light from the glass-front drink cooler illuminated the shop. Everything looked to be in order. He pushed himself off of the glass, and looked again at the quirky Not Open sign. It was painted midnight blue, with shimmering metallic gold stars sprinkled over the background. In the corner, a crescent moon slept, complete with a droopy nightcap, slightly askew. In the bottom right corner, he saw the artist's initials. The tiny G.L. indicated that Gwen herself had painted the sign. He resumed his run, taking the long way home. 

Alec had learned quite a bit about Gwen Lewis over the course of the past half hour. She was an athlete. She had been in a car crash that was serious enough to have resulted in a head injury that had sidelined her. The woman had again proven her quick wit during their talk on the beach, and just now, he had found out that she was an artist. He wondered what other talents she had. 

There was just something about her that intrigued him. She stood out in Broadchurch, but yet, she also fit in here. The more complicated the case became, and the more time he spent pondering all individuals involved, he found that he kept coming back to Gwen and not in his typical, disinterested way. 

Detective Inspector Alec Hardy was having a hard time convincing himself that Gwen Lewis was still just the name of a victim in an open case file... 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

As Rose pushed her trolley through the aisles, she realised that this was her first trip to the grocery when she had not felt like she was on a search and rescue mission for foodstuffs. 

The feeling of being an outsider was beginning to wane. No one would have guessed, — not even friends — that every day she was putting on the Gwen Lewis mask to successfully hide the strangling guilt of being Rose Tyler. 

_Gwen_ was already on a friendly basis with the mayor, most of the police force, the entire staff of _The Broadchurch Echo_ , the church organist, and the local rock band that played the pub circuit. Rose had always been able befriend people quickly, so of course, Gwen was no different. 

"Hi Mary. How's your daughter's ankle?" Rose was a customer of Mary's beauty shop, and she did Rose's hair and occasionally, gave her a pedicure. 

"Off the crutches yesterday. Crossing our fingers that she'll be swinging that racket again next week." Mary leaned in close, and lowered her voice. "Your roots need a touch-up, luv. I have an opening tomorrow at two. Can I book you?" 

Rose fingered her hair. Jackie had always been on Rose to take care of her dark roots. She felt sad for a moment, but tamped down the feelings and smiled. "Sounds great." 

"Have you ever thought about growing it out?" Mary reached out and tugged at Rose's fringe, and then the hair on her crown. "Oh, we can talk about it tomorrow, hon. Gotta run. Ta-ra!" 

Rose blew air through her lips, slightly relieved to be alone again. She aimed for the wine section. She scanned the shelves of bottles until she heard a familiar voice. 

Alec Hardy sidled his trolley next to hers and surveyed her purchases. "Expensive cheese, chocolates, crisps, strawberries, flowers." He cleared his throat. "You must be entertaining someone special." 

"Oh yeah. Big plans." Rose said and then bit her lip. 

Hardy nodded, lips pressed tightly together. 

"Big storm coming tonight, you know. I already have a big pot of stew simmering. Thought I'd serve something hot and tasty. I love being all cosy during a storm. Gonna have a nice cuddle in front of the fire, too." 

Hardy looked away. "I didn't know you were seeing someone." He returned his attention to her. 

It was difficult, but she forced the smile off of her face. "Only been together a few months, but I am really hoping this relationship works out for the long term. I just adore him, and he adores me, at least I think he does. There is one problem though. Bit of a language gap." 

"So where's he from? Italy? France?" Hardy asked, stoic. 

"No, I'm definitely sure he is English born and bred. Which is weird, 'cos he doesn't speak English. Not a single word!" Rose shook her head with both a sigh and shrug. 

￼Hardy looked at her, confused. 

"Only reason I even know he fancies me is 'cos he's always sniffing my feet, which I _think_ is good. Of course, he is a bit scruffy, but that's nothing that can't be taken care of with a pair of scissors and a trimmer. He drools something awful though, which is a deal breaker when it comes to snogging." Rose sputtered a laugh. 

Hardy scowled, and then Rose laughed even harder. He cracked a smile and shook his head, and ran his hand over his stubble. Rose bit her tongue to keep her mouth from gaping open. It was difficult not to stare. 

It wasn't often that the Doctor had let his beard grow more than twenty-four hours. But when his jaw was stubbly it had been dead sexy. She remembered the way the roughness of his face felt against her skin when they hugged. It made her heart race just to think about it. 

Was the Inspector's beard that same, seemingly impossible combination of rough and soft? Or was that a superior Time Lord biology thing? 

Hardy's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "You do know that chocolate isn't good for dogs, don't you?" 

Rose rolled her eyes. "Course I know that. The chocolate is for me, you loon. Strawberries are for my breakfast. I like 'em on yogurt. The Gruyère is for a new quiche recipe. Crisps are 'cos I like 'em." She raised an eyebrow. "And if I don't buy flowers for myself, I will never have any in the house, and I _really_ like flowers.”

Hardy crossed his arms. "And since you're intent on telling me the contents of your trolley, why are you looking for wine?" 

"I'm trying to pick some wine for those days that you exasperate Ellie," she said, pointing at him. 

"I am a _very_ good boss," protested the man, sternly. 

"Blimey, you take things seriously." 

"Aye, that I do...most of the time." He chuckled, but his smile quickly faded. "Did you order more Earl Grey? I didn't like the one you gave me this morning. Too fruity." 

“Yeah, 'course I did. Ordered it rush, in fact, _just for you_." Three times she poked him in the chest punctuating her words. "Will arrive day after tomorrow. And I promise," she said, holding up her hand as if taking an oath, "I will never run out of Earl Grey again. Don't want to lose my best customer." 

"I suppose I can put up with that other sh…er…kind for one more day," he said, grumpy. 

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Rose replied, judgmentally.

Hardy ignored her.

"Ellie has always bought the wine when we've gotten together, but I don't see the kind she likes, and I want to get her some. I'm not that great at choosing. Dad always got it, uh, before..." Her voice trailed off. 

He pulled a bottle of red wine from the shelf and showed it to Rose. "Ellie likes this one." 

Rose took the bottle from him and studied it. "Thanks." 

Hardy nodded. 

When Rose finally looked up at him, in his eyes she saw care and concern. She caught herself staring and looked away. 

"See you tomorrow morning?" he asked, voice cracking. 

She nodded and smiled. "Yeah. Tomorrow."  


oOo 

Rose was precariously balanced on the second highest rung of a seven foot tall ladder in the storage room. "Why did you put the bloody box on the highest shelf, you git!" she grunted, thoroughly frustrated at the previous owner. 

A Mr. Billy Ferguson had special-ordered three years worth of back issues of _Bagpiper's Quarterly_ six months before, but had never picked up his order. The prior shop keep had left a note for Rose about the order, but had given no telephone number to contact the man. Rose had tried to contact him, but Mr. Ferguson's number was unlisted. Then this morning, at five minutes after six, just as the shop opened, Ferguson called in a panic, needing the magazines as soon as possible. 

The bells jangled on the door indicating a customer had come into the shop. Chloe was off for the week, out of town visiting a friend, so Rose was alone. She heard Tiger’s claws clicking on the tile floor as he stood to undoubtedly observe the patron.

"I'm in the back room. Be right with you," she called. 

"It's Hardy. In case you were worried it's someone unsavoury," he answered, boldly walking into the back room. "You need to be more careful when you're alone this early in the morning, Gwen." 

"G'morning to you too, and I _am_ careful. I have a video system installed now, and I knew it was you 'cos I have a monitor over on that wall behind you." 

"Glad to see you took my advice to heart." He looked up at her, perched high on the ladder. "Be careful up there. You aren't supposed to be on that rung. It isn't safe." 

Rose rolled her eyes at him, but inside, her heart was warmed by his protectiveness. "You're tall. Would you get that box up there for me?" she asked, turning around to look down at him. He nodded, and carefully, she began her descent. 

Hardy could not help but notice how her knee length denim skirt showed off her well-toned legs. They were strong again now that she was exercising regularly. 

She skipped the bottom rung hopped off of the ladder with a bounce. "It's that box up on the to shelf, _Bagpipers Quarterly_. I'm too short to reach it." 

" _Bagpiper's Quarterly_?" He raised a single eyebrow and laughed, shaking his head. He took off his jacket and handed it to Rose before scrambling up the ladder. With ease, he pulled the small, flat box off of the shelf, tucked it under his arm and came back down. 

"Thanks," she said as Hardy handed her the box. "Do you know someone called Billy Ferguson?" She headed straight for the espresso bar, and without asking for his order, began to make his morning Earl Grey for takeaway. 

"No." Hardy answered quietly as he watched her pull the glass jar of loose tea from the shelf on the wall. 

Rose looked at him from behind the espresso machine. "What?" She thought he had said something to her. 

"No...nothing.” 

"Why you acting...all nervous like?" Rose watched him push his hands into his pockets, then pull them back out. He moved his hands behind his back, then pushed them back into his pockets. He tugged his ear, ran his hand through his hair, and then held his hands behind his back. 

"Here you go, then. And here’s Ellie’s too. Said you’d be picking hers up for her.” She pushed the two cups across the counter, and he pushed his coins towards her. Their hands were like two vehicles passing each other on the road. 

"I arrive at the beach for my Sunday morning run promptly at seven," he said abruptly. "Meet me at the green wind shelter at the trailhead closest to your house." He picked up the paper cups and left the shop, without waiting for a response. 

"Okay..." she said to his back as the door closed behind him. 

That Sunday, Rose was at the shelter at six forty-five, ready and waiting. 

oOo 

Ellie's boys, Tom and Fred were settled in bed, and it had been one of those days that Ellie had shown up at Rose's door with two wine glasses in hand. 

"Red or white, Ellie?" asked Rose.  
"Will you think less of me if I say bring one of each?" Ellie asked. "You all right?" asked Rose, concerned.  
"No, not really. Can you come over? I really need someone to talk to." 

Once settled in Ellie's lounge, with wine in hand, Ellie told Rose about the telephone conversation she had just had with her ex-husband's mother. It had upset Ellie greatly, but talking it out helped, and soon the women were simply talking, laughing and enjoying each other's company. 

"How come you hardly ever come into the shop on your way to work anymore?" Rose asked Ellie as she poured each of them a second glass of wine. 

"Why? Is Alec being a prat?" Ellie asked. "I apologise on his behalf. He is a _bear_ before eight am." 

"No, he's fine, well...grumpy, but fine. Just that he’s started pickomg up your coffee for you now.” 

Ellie shrugged. "Alec volunteered to fetch my coffee, and I'm grateful for the fifteen extra minutes it gives me to get the kids out the door," explained Ellie with a smile. An odd look came on her face. Ellie opened her mouth and closed it again, deciding whether to speak. 

"What?" asked Rose with a chuckle, as she looked over the rim of her wineglass. "Do you think Alec is...attractive?" Ellie asked.  
"Where did that come from?" Rose asked with a snort. 

"No fair answering a question with another question," pressed Ellie. "I've seen the way you look at him, is all." 

Rose stopped mid-sip. Of course she had been guilty of _looking_ , but Ellie would never believe Rose's _reason_ for looking. And further, Rose did not realise that at some point, Ellie had _caught_ her looking. 

"You're taking your time with your answer, Gwen. If you were a suspect, I'd say you were carefully crafting your answer." 

"He's...um...good looking in a well, messy...grumpy...sort of way. I suppose. He has… He has very nice eyes." She tried to be as casual as she could. 

Of course Rose thought Alec Hardy was attractive. He was the mirror image of the Doctor. He was not the same man however, and Rose had to remind herself of that fact every single time she saw him, which was now daily, if not more than once a day. 

"Anything else about him you fancy?" Ellie asked with a wicked gleam in her eyes. 

Rose brought her wineglass to her lips and kept it there, attempting to hide her face, which was burning red. 

Ellie cleared her throat and sat up rod straight. "Ms. Lewis, is it not true that you and Detective Inspector Hardy run together every Sunday morning at seven o'clock?" 

"Yeah..." Rose drew it out. 

"Isn't it also true that you are guilty of checking out his bum whilst running on-?" 

"What?!" she screeched loudly. 

"Hush woman! My boys are sleeping!" Ellie said sternly, but then laughed. Ellie studied Rose's face. 

"Stop interrogating me," Rose whisper-shouted. 

"You're trying to change the subject, Ms. Lewis, and your lack of eye contact is not helping your case. Am I going to have to put you in solitary to convince you to answer my questions?" 

Rose still did not answer, but was pinching back a smile at Ellie's attempt at speaking like a hard-nosed detective. 

"I'll take your silence as an admission of guilt, Ms. Lewis. Anyone you wish to call before I throw you in the clink? Detective Inspector Alec Hardy himself perhaps?" Ellie pulled out her mobile and held her thumb over the screen. "I have him on speed dial. All I have to do is touch." 

Rose was not sure if Ellie was joking or not. They had both had enough wine drunk dial. "I may...have...hung back a ways for a better view a time or two," Rose admitted, blushing. "Can't believe I'm telling you this, but...I came up with a nickname." 

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” she gushed.  
Rose closed her eyes tightly. "DI Alec Hotty," she whispered, then opened one eye. 

"I don't think I have ever heard him called that before." Ellie picked up the bottle, and motioned for Rose to hold her glass up for a refill. "Wonder what he'd say if you called him that to his face? Or if I told him that's what you call him." 

"Ellie Baker, you wouldn't dare!" Rose said with a glare. 

Ellie held up her phone and wiggled it in Rose's face. 

"So what if I was checking out his bum. Is it a crime to think he has a nice arse? He does! Satisfied?" 

"I knew you had," Ellie said smugly.  
Rose threw a foil wrapped chocolate truffle at her.

“Of course, he's isn't my type, but apparently, he is yours," Ellie teased. 

"Well...I suppose if I have a type...he is...sort of...a prime example of it." Rose blushed. She didn't normally drink more than two glasses of wine, but today was the six month anniversary of The Incident, and she felt like escaping. "You have seen the man running, haven't you? His legs are...they're...just wow. And if someone could ever convince him to get a haircut? Not that it's...horrendous, but...that hair of his...it is really, really great." Rose nearly growled. 

Ellie and Rose broke into a fit of what could only be described as schoolgirl giggling. When they had calmed down, Rose grew quiet and ran her finger around the rim of her glass. 

"What's wrong, Gwen?"

"Ellie, why is the Inspector so tetchy all the time?" 

Ellie thought carefully about her answer. She didn’t want to tell her anything that would betray his confidence. "His divorce was really, really bad." 

Rose nodded, and then immediately changed the subject. She demanded an update on Ellie's exhaustive attempts to convince SOCO Brian that no, she did _not_ want to go on a date. 

Despite her loose tongue, Rose had successfully maintained all of her important secrets. 

oOo 

The sun was shining brightly as Rose ran down her street. Every Sunday for eight weeks, she had met Alex Hardy promptly at seven am, if not before. She had come to look forward to Sunday more than any other day of the week. 

She liked the man's dry sense of humour, and his intensity was attractive in a raw, primal way. Rose had even wondered if she wanted more than friendship with Alec Hardy. The Inspector was terse, rude, had limited social skills, and barely groomed himself; but most worrisome was that the man was emotionally closed-off. Of course, Rose wanted to know what was under that hard outer shell. 

They were on a collision course, separated by sand and sea grass. Soon, they were close enough to see sweaty brows, red cheeks, and chests heaving as lungs worked to replenish oxygen lost to exertion. Rose kept her pace steady until she and Hardy arrived at their regular meeting place, the wind-battered shelter overlooking the sea. Rose had come to look forward to their Sunday morning runs, and they had not missed one Sunday morning in eight weeks. 

"Hello," greeted Rose with a bright smile. "I'm feeling really strong today. You up for a little friendly competition?" 

"You want to race me? Hardly think that's a fair contest, Gwen. I'd leave you in the dust," he boasted. 

"Maybe, maybe not. First one to that pile of driftwood down the beach wins."

"Wins what?" asked Hardy, hands on hips.

"If you win, I'll give you free tea for a month, twice a day even. If I, win, you-"

"If you win Gwen, I will buy you fresh cut flowers for your shop, once a week, for a month." 

"Really?" 

"Really."

He held out his hand, they shook on the bet.

And it was a tie. 

oOo 

Tiger raised his head and watched Chloe as she stormed through the front door of Zoka without greeting Rose. Her jaw was set, and eyes flashed as she blew past the front counter, where Rose was taking care of a customer. Tiger dropped his head back onto his paws, and closed his eyes. Both customer and owner watched as the irate young woman disappeared into the back room to put away her things and don her marigold-coloured Zoka apron. 

"Oh Chloe," Reverend Paul Coates said with a sigh. "I wonder what's got you upset this time?" There was compassion in his voice. 

Rose's attention was directed towards the storage room until Reverend Coates cleared his throat. "Oh, sorry. Are you going to want to have your cappuccino here or is this takeaway?" 

"For here, please Gwen. And one of those raspberry scones please, too. How about that big one in the front with lots of sugar crystals." 

Rose nodded, and made her way to the espresso machine. Reverend Coates took the copy of _The Echo_ he had just bought, and sat at one of the tables, pretending to read while he waited for his coffee. He had become quite close to the Latimer family over the past year and a half, and Chloe's behaviour was not unusual. 

Chloe emerged a few minutes later. Her eyes were red, and free of makeup. The hair around her temple was damp, evidence that she had splashed her face with water. Rose bit her lip as the young woman took her place behind the checkout counter. Slowly, she slipped herself onto the stool. She stared out the window as the morning traffic made its way up and down the high street. 

Rose served Reverend Coates. "Let me know if you'd like anything else, Reverend." Discreetly, she approached Chloe and gently placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder. "Are you alright?" 

"Sorry I'm late Gwen." Chloe diverted her eyes, embarrassed. 

"Hey, don't worry about it," Rose said lightly, hoping to comfort her, though she was quite sure that Chloe was not upset about being late. "It's not like there's line of customers out the door," she said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. 

Chloe nodded her head and drew in a deep breath. "So do you want me at the bar or behind the register this morning?" Chloe asked, having successfully calmed herself. 

"Which would you prefer?" asked Rose.

"I'll cashier if you don't mind. Less chance of messing up a drink order." 

Rose smiled and squeezed Chloe's shoulder, then headed to the back room to use the loo. Upon returning, Rose was glad to see that Chloe was sitting with Reverend Coates, engaged in an intense conversation. 

"Gwen, do you have your A-Levels?" Chloe asked, looking over her shoulder.

Rose opened and closed her mouth. She could not remember how much education Pete had given Gwen Lewis. "Nope." Rose would email Pete later and make sure her records matched this claim. 

"See, Paul! Look at Gwen! She owns her own business! She doesn't have her A-Levels, and she is brilliant. She has her own house, a nice car, posh clothes. She isn't living rough under a bridge!" 

"Chloe, your mum is _not_ being unreasonable, she only wants you to consider all of your options." Reverend Coates set down his cup. 

"Why’re you asking?" Rose tore open the plastic wrap around a stack of the new issue of _Smash Hits_ magazine. 

Chloe crossed her arms and sighed. "Mum keeps telling me I won't have any chance for a good job unless I get my A-Levels. I got all As and Bs and only one C on my GSCEs. It's not like I wanna be a rocket scientist!" 

"Is that what she really said?" Reverend Coates asked with a wry chuckle.

Chloe stared at Reverend Coates for a moment. "She may as well have. I know it's what she was thinking," she answered, squinting.

"So you're telepathic now?" he rebutted with a grin. 

Chloe ignored him. "How come you didn't get your A-Levels, Gwen?" Chloe glanced sideways at Reverend Coates while asking Rose. 

"Really wanna know? It's sorta embarrassing." Rose put the magazines in their spot on the wall rack, and brought over her tumbler of tea. 

Chloe looked at her with pleading eyes. 

"Well..." Rose turned a chair around from the other café table and sat down. "I was sixteen, and there was this guy. He was really, really fit, and of course I fancied him 'cos he was older and he seemed to like me too. I had done okay on my GSCEs. Got one A, two Bs, four Cs..." She grimaced. "And a D in science. I was planning on sitting A-Levels in English, French and Art." 

"You painted the sign on the door, didn't you?" asked Reverend Coates. 

"Yeah. Haven't painted in years. I like how it turned out, though," said Rose. "Anyway, the bloke, he persuaded me to forget about continuing on, 'cos he was sure his band was gonna make it big - did I mention he was a musician?" Rose rolled her eyes and sighed. "Mum tried to make me understand that I was being stupid, but I ignored her. So anyway, this really brilliant guy ended up being both a thief and not very talented. He stole my entire savings, and then ended up in jail. I moved back home, and got a job in a shop." Rose shrugged, but then she remembered that Gwen had worked as a secretary. "When I got tired of folding expensive clothes that I'd never be able to afford, I applied for a secretary job at a private security firm and ended up working there 'til I moved here." 

"See, Paul? She didn't need her A-Levels to get a good job,” Chloe crossed her arms. 

"Hold on, I'm not done." Rose halted Chloe. "I need to back up a bit. My Mum wasn't really big on A-Levels. She didn't think I needed them, 'cos she never had 'em. But she wasn't against me getting them either. She was furious though, because I left home at sixteen to move in with this older guy. She warned me that the bloke wasn't any good for me, but I wouldn't have any of it. I thought I knew best." 

Chloe sat quietly. 

"I guess what I'm saying is don't discount your mum's advice just because she's your mum. She's been around longer, and despite what you think, I would be willing to bet she does want what is best for you. Wants you to be happy and successful. But success isn't measured by a fat bank account either." 

"How'd you afford a house and this place and everything without college?" It was the type of bold and personal question that a young person was not afraid to ask. 

"Well..." Rose chewed her lip, as she bought herself time. She certainly could not say her stepfather had funded a portion of her independence, and the rest had come from the generous Torchwood salary she had never had time to spend. "I took every extra shift I could when I was working at the shop, and then when I got the office job, my wages increased, even though working there was...I'll just say they didn't have the easiest working conditions." She laughed quietly. "I had no social life to speak of. I lived very frugally, saved every pence and pound, and as soon as I could afford it I got outta London and moved here. Cost of living is much more affordable outside of London." 

"All very good advice. Chloe, you should listen to her. So what does your dad say?" asked Reverend Coates. 

"Dad stays out of it," Chloe answered with half smile. 

"What do you want to do? Not next year, but five or ten years from now? Any ideas?" asked Rose. 

Chloe shrugged. "Dunno, and that's part of the problem. I...I feel like I'm...adrift right now." Chloe's face no longer showed a hint of anger. Now, the young woman looked lost. 

Reverend Coates looked at Chloe and nodded sympathetically. "Maybe it's wise of you not to make any big decisions right now, one way or the other." 

“I’ve told her that," Chloe explained quietly. "Mum says I'm using grief as an excuse to put off thinking about my future." She paused. "And then I see Mum and Dad...they're so happy with the new baby and I don't understand how they could move on so fast." 

"Who says they have moved on?" Reverend Coates asked. "And your little sister deserves to live in a home filled with love and joy, Chloe. It's wrong to think otherwise," said Reverend Coates. 

"I know." Chloe nodded. "And I love Erin to bits. I was okay before she was born, but ever since she came, for some reason, all those horrible memories have just come...flooding back!" 

"Chloe, have you talked to your mum about any of this?" Reverend Coates asked. 

Rose now felt like she was intruding. Quietly, she picked up her mug of tea and walked to the espresso bar to clean the machine. 

"You don't have to go Gwen." Chloe shook her head and dabbed her eyes with a paper serviette. "Everyone in Broadchurch has seen me crying. It's not like it's some big secret about my brother." 

Rose nodded, and then slowly returned to her seat. "I feel like I have no business giving advice." Rose felt this especially true, considering her own unresolved feelings of guilt. "But...have you and your mother considered counselling?" 

"Gwen is right, Chloe. You and your mother...you need to talk to someone. Together. I understand if you don't want to talk to me, but the two of you do need to find _someone_." 

The bells on the door jingled. 

"Oh bollocks! Sorry Paul," she apologised to the Reverend for her language. "He is the last person I wanna see right now. Gwen will you take care of Detective Idiot Hardarse?" Chloe slumped in her chair. 

Rose gave Chloe a sharp look, then left the table to greet the Inspector. Chloe and Reverend Coates continued their discussion, heads together. 

"I want my regular for takeaway, and Ellie would like a..." Alec pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and read the complicated order, shaking his head. "This isn't coffee, it's pudding. Three shots of espresso with four inches of steamed milk, one pump of dark chocolate, one pump of raspberry syrup and chocolate shavings on top." 

Rose laughed. "Ellie does love her coffee sweet." Rose started preparing Hardy's tea first, as it needed to steep, and then she moved on to Ellie's confectionary drink. "Thanks for spreading the word about my shop. Officer Abbott said you've been telling people about it. I think the Broadchurch PD is the only thing keeping the shop afloat right now." 

"I don't remember telling anyone," Hardy said quickly, deflecting the gratitude. "They probably just saw the cup. Or maybe it was Ellie. She seems to think this place is brilliant. Besides, you’re close to the station and we coppers like our coffee." 

Rose stifled a smile. "Can I run an idea by you? I'd like your opinion on something."

"My opinion?" Hardy asked, incredulous. 

"Yeah, yours. You’re in here every single day, usually twice. So, I have this case full of pastries, and there's nothing really healthy. What if I started offering a few healthier breakfast items? Like oatmeal, or yogurt with fresh fruit and granola? Do you think people would go for that sort of thing?" Rose continued to busy herself preparing Ellie's drink. 

"I suppose..." Hardy stuck out his lower lip and tipped his head, thinking. "As long as the oatmeal isn't that rubbish instant kind from an envelope." 

"Course not! I'd probably make in a slow cooker and keep it hot that way. Maybe offer nuts, dried fruits, honey, maple syrup. You know, the works.”

"Well, it does take me a while to make my oatmeal every morning, and it'd be one less thing for me to do." 

"You eat oatmeal for breakfast?" she asked, looking up over the tall machine, endearingly scrunching up her nose. 

"Why so surprised?" he asked in a high, whinging voice. "I eat very healthfully!" 

"Dunno. Figured you'd be a toast-running-out-the-door kind of bloke." 

He leaned on the counter. "So you've given this some thought then? What I have for breakfast?" 

Rose grinned, slightly wickedly. "Oh yes. Quite often." She raised an eyebrow. 

Alec distanced himself. He straightened up and then pushed himself off of the counter. 

Rose decided she had better put him out of his misery. "I am _always_ trying to improve my business." She laughed and set the drinks on the counter in front of him. 

"So how much for this complicated coffee...thing of hers?" 

"You know, Ellie never complains about the price. She _likes_ my coffee." Rose smiled at him warmly, then told him the total. 

Alec grunted something unintelligible as he rifled through his wallet.

Rose held out her hand, wiggling her fingers. "Come on then, pay up for Ellie's drink." 

He slapped two five pound notes into her hand, but as he pulled his hand away, his skin brushed hers. 

"Keep..." His voice was raspy. He swallowed hard, and retracted his hand quickly. "Keep the change." 

Alec grabbed the drinks and left quickly. 

Rose shook her head, wondering why he had fled. She put the money into the register. Rose smiled as she looked at this week's bouquet, a cheerful mass of Gerbera daisies, golden yellow to match her apron, and then returned to Chloe and Reverend Coates. 

"You are such a flirt," Chloe said sourly.

"He's a very good customer, and he _is_ working on my case, and I wasn't flirting. Not that it's any of your business. But I _wasn't_ ," Rose said firmly. 

Reverend Coates chuckled. "That was flirting." 

Rose squinted. "Thanks _ever_ so for the support," she said sarcastically. 

"Ninth commandment, thou shalt not lie," Coates quoted. 

"Uh, wrong. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour is the ninth commandment." Rose corrected the vicar, before sputtering a laugh. 

"Semantics," argued Reverend Coates. 

"Right..." Rose drawled. "From where I'm sitting, you're bearing false witness against me, Reverend." 

"Enough Sunday school," Chloe said. "You really know nothing about that man, and I promise you, you don't want to know him. Did you know he stole Ellie's job while she was on holiday? Ellie _herself_ told my Mum." 

"Hardy did not steal Ellie's job." Reverend Coates shook his head. 

“Yeah, well…” Chloe backpedalled. “Ellie and him, they go out to eat together like, all the time. I bet he fancies her, and that's why he was so slow to catch the killer." 

"Oh come on, Chloe. The doesn't even make any sense. Why would he want to protect Ellie's husband if he fancied her? Anyone who has ever read a mystery knows that the bad cop wants the husband out of the way." Rose laughed and shook her head. 

"Do you know what everyone at the station calls him?" asked Chloe with a wicked gleam in her eye. 

"Gwen and I do not need to hear that." The Reverend tried to end the line of discussion. 

"Well it isn't very nice, and since I'm a nice person, I won't tell you that they call him-" 

"Chloe, you need to stop," Rose instructed firmly.

Alec's thick Scottish voice pierced the room. "I forgot my wallet." 

Rose's head swiveled towards the sound of Hardy's voice. His wallet was sitting on the espresso bar counter. He had snuck back in, hoping to remain unseen. 

Chloe turned red from embarrassment, muttered a curse, and then left the shop as quickly as she could. 

"Chloe," Rose called after her. "Don't run off..." Rose flew out of her chair, following the young woman. 

Reverend Coates called Rose back. "Gwen, let her be on her own for a while." 

"But look at that storm out there." Rose pointed at the blackening sky. 

"She will be fine, Gwen. It isn't the first time she's run off, and it probably won't be the last. That's what she does when she's in a corner." Reverend Coates drank the last of his cappuccino. "I had better call Beth and find out if there is anything I can do to help. See you tomorrow when I pick up the day-old pastries." Reverend Coates left. 

Rose turned her attention to Inspector Hardy. "How much of that did you hear?" 

"From the bit about stealing Ellie's job," Hardy said without hesitation.

Rose flinched subtly. 

"Nothing I haven't heard before," Hardy said. He scrubbed his hand down his face, and looked up at the ceiling. "Ellie and I are friends now." He pushed his hands into his pockets. "But it was a hard-earned friendship. I didn't know her when I was hired, and yes, she was very angry that I was given the job she had been promised. But no, I didn't steal her job. The Chief hired me while Ellie was away. I'm not a native of Broadchurch." 

"Oh. I didn't know that," Rose said, not sure what else to say. "I guess I don't really understand why Chloe is so angry at you. Why would she say those things?" 

Alec looked around the room. "I have very few friends, and only a few more that I could call acquaintances. If you haven't noticed by now, I'm not the easiest person to get along with. Ellie puts up with my...personality flaws, which speaks volumes to her goodness. And as to why Chloe said those things about me, you'll have to ask her." 

Rose dropped into one of the café chairs while Alec remained standing, awkwardly rocking on his feet, hands still in his pockets. 

"I'm not the most popular bloke in town, and I think Chloe is my number one _non_ -fan." 

"Is there such a thing as a non-fan?" asked Rose, attempting humour.

"Probably not," answered Hardy. "But if there is such a thing, she's it." 

"You know, I didn't know about the murder when I moved here, Inspector." Rose continued to look out the window. The storm had now come ashore, and lightning was frequently illuminating the sky. Far off, thunder rumbled. 

"How could you not know about Danny Latimer's murder? I thought the whole of England knew," Hardy asked, surprised. 

"My job was...all consuming, you might say." She returned her attention inside the shop. "Care to stay for a bit until the storm blows over, or do you need to get to the station?" Rose asked. 

"Why? Do you have questions about the case?" He looked at his wristwatch. "I only have a few minutes." He held his body stiffly, taking a formal stance. 

"No. No questions." There was a heavy silence. "You know Inspector, I'm not one of those non-fans...at least not yet," she teased before she became serious again. "If you need a place to get away from the non-fans," Rose smiled, "you're always welcome here." 

He looked at her and nodded. His face softened, and then Alec Hardy smiled. "Thank you...Gwen Lewis." 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

The raging storm quickly forced Chloe back inside. She had not gone far, just to the covered picnic area at a nearby park, and she had only been gone for fifteen minutes. With trepidation, Chloe hid behind a wall, and peeked in through the front window. _There is no way I'm going in there unless Hardarse is gone,_ she thought to herself. 

"You can stop lurking, Chloe. He's gone." Rose spoke loudly without lifting her eyes from a magazine. 

The young woman emerged from the her hiding place and sheepishly entered the cosy atmosphere of the shop. "How'd you know I was out there?" she asked. 

"Security cameras." Rose looked up and sighed as she closed the magazine and pushed it aside. 

"Right. I forgot about those." Chloe shoved her hands into the pockets of her damp jeans. Turning her back to Rose, she leaned against the counter and looked outside at the pounding rain. 

"You need to dry off, you'll catch a chill." Rose slipped off of her stool and came around to where Chloe was standing. 

The young woman didn't look Rose in the eye. 

Even still, Rose gently encouraged Chloe towards the back room. "I know you keep a spare set of clothes." Rose thought of the multiple incidents of spilt milk, which had prompted Chloe to keep a change on hand at all times. 

Chloe did as she was told, and returned wearing an Owl City tee shirt and fresh pair of jeans. 

"Would you mind cleaning up around the espresso bar? That little girl left fingerprints all over the glass." 

"Why wouldn't her mum buy her one of those frosted flower shaped biscuits? I almost bought one her one myself, just to stop her whinging," Chloe said with a smirk. "It's not like one biscuit is gonna rot her teeth outta her head. And then she goes and buys one for herself! The cow." 

"Mums have reasons...but...yeah..." Rose left it at that. 

"Speaking of flowers..." said Chloe. "Where do you buy the flowers for the shop?" She studied the bouquet. "They're gorgeous, and I haven't ever seen anything like them at Tesco. Dean only ever buys me carnations, not that I'm complaining, but these are brilliant. They even match the colour scheme of the shop." 

"I didn't buy them. They're from DI Hardy. I don't know where he gets them." 

Chloe's eyebrows shot up. "The flowers are from Hardarse." It was not a question. 

"Chloe," Rose warned. 

"Sorry," Chloe answered, smirking. " I suppose I shouldn't call him that. He probably is your best customer. He's in here enough." Chloe muttered before her eyes popped open wide. "Oh...my...gawd!" she exclaimed. "He's into you! He's in here all the time, and now he's sending you flowers. He's just so...ugh." Chloe shuddered in revulsion.

"Chloe, that's enough." Rose said quietly, but her irritation was unmistakeable. "You're right. He is my best customer, and he is in charge of my case, so you can stop calling him Hardarse now." 

Chloe smirked and looked away. 

Rose pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and sighed. "We run together once a week, on Sunday mornings before I go to church. About a month ago we made a bet. If the DI won, he'd get free tea for a month. And if I won, he'd buy flowers for the shop once a week for a month." Rose shrugged. "It was a tie." 

"You run together, too?"

"Yes. He's the only running partner I've found here in Broadchurch." 

"Of all the things he could have chosen. Come on Gwen. flowers?" The young woman crossed her arms and looked at Rose with raised eyebrows and slack jaw. 

"It was a _bet_ , and there is nothing more to say about it. Now I need you to watch the shop for an hour or so. I'm going over to _The Echo_ to discuss this week's notice." Rose removed her apron. "So don't mention it again." 

Chloe nodded without meeting Rose's eyes. Looking very young, Chloe scrunched her face. "I'm sorry," she whispered. 

"Thanks," Rose replied. "I'll be back. Doubt there'll be many customers. Why don't you sit and read a magazine or something. Make yourself some hot chocolate, have a biscuit or whatever and just chill, 'kay? 

"And if Mr. Ferguson comes by for his bagpipe magazines, his special order is in a box under the counter. But he has to show ID before you hand them over, alright? They're already paid for, and I don't want some random person getting them. Not that any random person would really want bagpipe magazines, or know we even have them, I suppose." Rose laughed. 

"'Kay," answered Chloe. 

A few minutes after Rose left, the bells on the door jingled, and two men walked in. 

"Hello," said one man, leaning on the counter while the other man headed towards the magazines. 

"How can I help?" Chloe asked, not looking up from her magazine, still in a sour mood. 

"Saw your ad in the newspaper the other day, and I think I'd like try one of your posh coffee drink things. Could you fix me up one of them?" 

Chloe sighed inwardly, but smiled at the man. "Sure, what can I make for you?" 

The man smiled widely. "What's good?" 

Chloe thought for a moment, trying to remember how her boss helped customers who did not know what they wanted. "Well everything, of course. Do you like chocolate?" she asked. 

"Course. Who doesn't like chocolate?" he noted pleasantly. 

Chloe guided him through the ordering process, asking first whether it was for here or take away, how many shots of espresso he would like, milk or soy, and finally if he wanted chocolate shavings. 

She worked slowly, still somewhat unsure about the machine even though she had worked at Zoka for several months. The man was patient, and made small talk while she worked. 

"Wonder when these storms are gonna let up. It's a wonder the zeppies can even get off the ground in London these days. Haven't seen one off of the coast in months." 

"Mum and Dad are always saying it was never this stormy when they were kids," Chloe commented. 

"I think it has to do with those robot men. I hear that Lumin bloke bolluxed up the weather." 

"I was just a kid when that Cybermen stuff happened. One good thing about living in a small town...they ignored us." She told him the total, set the paper cup on the counter, and took his money. 

He dropped a coin into the tip jar then lifted the cup. "Cheers." He took a sip. "Oh, now this...this is good!" He took another sip, but the lid popped off. "Oh bloody..." He dropped the cup, and chocolate-scented coffee spilled onto the counter and floor. 

"You okay?" she asked, worried he had been burned.

"Naw, I'm fine, just clumsy, me. Sorry. I made a bit of a mess." 

Chloe gathered cleaning supplies from the storage area under the espresso machine, and placed a stack of microfibre cleaning rags on the counter. The man took a few cloths from the stack, and sopped up the spill on the floor while Chloe took care of the counter. 

"I really am very sorry. Could I bother you for another?" he asked, once they had taken care of the mess. "It was so good." 

"Sure," said Chloe, nodding. She made the replacement, and he paid for the second. The man sat down at one of the tables while his friend remained somewhere in the back of the store. 

"I bet my friend would like one of these. He's got a bit of a sweet tooth, but is probably embarrassed to order one. Probably afraid his mates at the pub would see him and call him a namby pamby." 

Chloe laughed. "Yeah it took me a while to convince my boyfriend Dean to try one. Now he's addicted." 

"Aww, now you've gone and broken my heart. Of course you've got a boyfriend," he said with a wink. "Pretty bird like you." 

Chloe smiled at the man. "How about another? For take away. And while you're at it, gimme one of them jammy pastries." 

"The raspberry-almond croissant?" she asked, using tongs to point at an artfully arranged stack of pastries. 

"Yeah, one of those, luv. Thanks."

"On a plate or in a sack?" asked Chloe as she grasped a pastry with the tongs. 

"Plate. Save the planet, and all that," he said cheerfully. 

As Rose had trained her, Chloe carried the plate to one of the café tables, setting a paper serviette and fork next to the plate. She returned to the espresso machine to make her third quadruple shot, sixteen ounce, mocha cappuccino with chocolate shavings in fifteen minutes. 

"Hey, I'm back," announced Rose, coming through the front door. She placed her umbrella in the stand next to the front door, shrugged off her dripping raincoat, and hung it on the coatrack. "Didn't take as long as I thought. Our advert is going to start running in Monday's paper." 

"Nice place ya got here. I bet you're the owner, aren't ya?" asked the man, sitting at the table. 

"Yeah," Rose answered, smiling at the new customer as she put her Zoka apron back on. "First time in?" 

"Yes ma'am."

"How's your drink?" Rose asked, flashing the new customer a welcoming smile. 

"Tasty. All of them pastries look good. Had a hard time choosing." The man looked over at the curved glass front case. 

"That croissant you have there is one of my favourites," Rose said. 

"Gwen, we're almost out of chocolate syrup," said Chloe, holding up a pump bottle. "I didn't find another one under the counter, and I didn't know where to look in back." 

"No worries, I'll get it." Rose headed to the back storage room.

The man drinking coffee jumped up, knocking over his chair. "Get outta there!" he shouted. 

Chloe shrieked as the second man came running from the back of the shop. Rose was not far behind the second man, running as fast as she could, dodging racks and tables. She followed them out into the heavy rain. The men jumped into an old car and sped off. 

Soon Rose returned, wet hair plastered to her head, shirt and apron drenched. "Dammit, they got away and I couldn't read the number plate on their car." 

"What do you think that was that all about?" asked Chloe nervously. 

"One of those men was doing something in the back room. How long have they been here?" asked Rose, voice clipped and serious, hurrying to the computer behind the check out counter. She pulled up the video surveillance program. 

"They came in about twenty minutes ago." Chloe moved next to Rose. "There," she said, pointing at two men as they entered the shop. 

Rose studied their body language as they sauntered in. While one man approached Chloe at the counter, the other headed towards the back of the store, and looked at magazines. Chloe and the first man moved to the espresso bar. Rose knew it was impossible to see the door to the storage room from where Chloe was standing behind the machine. 

She opened a second file, and watched side-by-side video playback from the two different angles. As soon as Chloe was busy working on the first man's drink, the second man left the magazine area, and slipped into the storage room. 

Next, Rose opened the file that showed the footage from inside of the storage room itself. 

The screen went black as the second man pulled out a can of spray paint and obscured the lens with paint. 

"These two knew what they were doing." The Torchwood agent buried inside of her was on high alert. 

"Don't touch anything, Chloe, just stay where you are," Rose commanded. She pulled her mobile from her pocket and dialled. Rose closed her eyes while she waited for the person on the other end to answer. 

"How can you be so calm?" Chloe screeched.

Rose put a finger on her own lips. 

"Do you think they were trying to steal something? Do you think they'll be back?" Chloe's voice quivered. 

Rose held up her hand this time, and Chloe's snapped her mouth shut.

"Hey, this is Gwen." Her voice was friendly and calm. "Something happened at the shop a few minutes ago, and I think you might want to come down here... No, we're fine... I just want you to look at the surveillance video... Really, it's not that big of a deal... No... No..." Rose sighed in frustration. "I _really_ don't think need you to drop everything and race down here... Well, two men came in and I caught one of them searching through my storage room... Okay, I'll see you in a few." 

Rose pressed the _end call_ button with her thumb. "DI Hardy is on his way down to look at the video. You've had a hard day, Chloe, and I want you to go home." 

"Are you...are you sacking me?" asked Chloe quietly.

"What?" Rose guffawed. "No, you plum!" 

Chloe looked sheepish, but relieved. "I just thought with the running off, and the insults and everything, maybe you were so mad at me that...well..." 

"Well I don't think what you said was particularly brilliant..." Rose smirked, but quickly shook off her irritation. "And don't worry, I'll pay you for the rest of your shift, 'cos this is my decision to send you home." 

oOo 

Hardy ended the call, pulled his raincoat off of the coat tree, and then shoved his arms into the sleeves while hurrying out of his office. 

"Hey, Hardy, what's the emergency?" Ellie called after him. 

Hardy didn't answer her. It took nine minutes - nine minutes too long in his mind - for the Inspector to arrive at Zoka after he ended the phone call with Gwen. 

Inspector Hardy stormed into the shop. "Show me the video," he commanded immediately. 

"Hello to you, too," said Rose, from one of the two conversation-encouraging leather chairs up against the wall "How'd you get here so fast?" She took a sip of tea. 

"I know all the shortcuts. Now I'll be needing your password if you want me to open the file, and I'm thinking it is something very personal," he said, impatient. 

"I'm coming." Rose left her comfortable spot and sauntered over to the computer. She opened the file containing the digital video footage. 

Hardy slid on his glasses, and then stopped slightly. He braced his hand on the back of the stool as he looked over Rose's shoulder. 

His knuckles were touching her spine, and his face was close enough that she could feel his measured breaths puffing against her cheek. For a moment, the only things she could focus on were that spot on her back, and the warm air from his lungs. 

"Uh...um..." Rose cleared her throat and then refocused her attention on the video. "The man at the counter is the diversion for the other one who is looking for something in the back room." 

"Looks that way." Hardy straightened himself and put his hands on his hips. "He's dead, by the way. Murdered." 

"Who's dead?" Rose asked calmly, then turned her head. They were face to face. "Donald Jones, the man who owned the shop before you did." 

Rose blinked her eyes and then shook her head slowly. "I bought it from the bank. He'd defaulted on his business loan. I think his name was only mentioned once or twice." She knitted her eyebrows together. "What happened?" 

"He was killed up in Liverpool, so they have jurisdiction on the investigation. Police found prints at the scene that match those prints we found in your back room. Marcus Rowe is a suspect. Jones was a known drug dealer in Liverpool." 

"Was he dealing drugs here?" asked Rose. "Maybe he defaulted because business was bad, or...or...or what if the drug business was too good? From what the bank said, he just...left. Didn't even try to work out anything with the loan department. And remember that kid who came by early that one day? I saw him a couple of days ago. I was walking Tiger through the park, and I'm pretty sure he was doing a drug deal. I called it in, and hung around until he was arrested." 

"Why didn't you tell me about any of that?" Alec asked, accusatorially. 

"Because the whole time I was watching him, I was trying to remember where I had seen him before, and it just hit me now, that's why," she replied curtly.

"I want you to close up the shop for the day." DI Hardy straightened his back and tipped his chin.

"Why would I do that? It's only ten-thirty. I only stay open until noon on Saturdays. It's not that much longer."

"They're troublemakers," Hardy stated. 

"'Course they are," Rose countered. "And I bet Rowe hired them, too. But I doubt they're gonna come back. They obviously didn't find what they were looking for. They'll report to Rowe, and he'll chill for a while, and that'll give you a chance to find him." Rose stood from her stool and approached Hardy so that they were nearly toe to toe. 

"Where's Chloe? I want to question her." Hardy took a step away from Rose. 

"I sent her home. She's had a rough day."

"And you haven't?" Hardy ran his hand through his mop of hair, sending it into even further disarray.

"I'm fine, actually," she replied, with a shrug. 

"You are not fine, you are soaking wet from running after those two. I saw the video. It was reckless and foolish. You had no way of knowing if they had weapons, or if they would nab you. Leave that sort of thing to law enforcement. We know what we're doing." 

Rose clicked her tongue and looked away. But inside, she was seething. _If only he knew how many times I have saved his arse,_ she thought to herself, but then she calmed herself. "I won't do that again." 

"Gwen, you aren't taking this very seriously," he accused. "You shouldn't be here alone." 

"I'm alone more often than not. I can't afford to hire a second person full time. And most of the time, I've got Tiger here with me, too."

Alec guffawed. "Tiger? He may look ferocious, but he's a pussy cat. He probably smiled at those two men."

Rose tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and looked away.

"And I think you should reduce your hours of operation so that you are only open when Chloe can be here with you." He crossed his arms. 

"I am not going to reduce my hours, Alec, this is my livelihood, unless you're gonna pay my mortgage." She poked him innate chest.

"You just called me Alec."

"You're right, _Alec_." She took a step closer, eyes flashing. 

"The only person that calls me Alec, other than my Ma and Da, is Ellie, and she only does it to irritate me." 

Rose had the feeling he was questioning her motives. "Yeah, well I'm calling you Alec, 'cos I asked you to call me Gwen a long time ago. It doesn't seem hardly fair that you get to call me by my first name while I'm stuck calling you Inspector Hardy, or Detective Inspector or DI or DI Hardy or-" 

His arms were still crossed. "Alright then, _Gwen_. I want you to close Zoka for the day." 

"Aren't you gonna dust for prints or get SOCO here?" Rose brought her tumbler to her lips and casually took a sip of tea. 

"I don't need to have the place dusted because I know those two. They've been brought in for a few minor drug offences." 

"Drugs again..." Rose looked out the window. 

"You're thinking like an investigator, Lewis." 

"You're doing that to irritate me, yeah?" She smiled, catching her tongue between her teeth. 

"Aye. I _am_ irritated. You are my friend, and you are not understanding the gravity of the situation, Gwen. I need you to trust my professional instincts...Lewis." He smiled again, but this time, softly. 

A once-sweet, still cherished, but now painful memory surged into the fore of her mind. There'd been a reason she had chosen the last name Lewis. She remembered Dame Kelly Holmes Close. _He_ had called her Lewis. That magic paper had shown them to be the police. "Coppers hunch?" He'd asked, and she had responded cheekily. 

"Permission to follow up Sarge?" Rose whispered to herself.

"You just called me Sarge. I'm a Detective Inspector. Want to see my badge?" 

"Oh. Did I say something?" She successfully shook the memory away, but a wave of sadness washed over her that she was unable to overcome. "I suppose...I suppose you're right. I'm going to follow your suggestion and close. It's Saturday, and we hardly get anyone coming in after eleven anyway, well, except you." She laughed quietly. "Wanna cuppa before I close up?" 

"No. I'm fine." He paused. "Do you want a ride home?" 

She shook her head, and then shut down her computer. He stayed with her until the shop was secure, then walked out after her and Tiger. He checked the handle to make sure the door was secure. 

"See you tomorrow for our run?" asked Rose. 

"Of course."  
oOo 

Rose sat on her sofa in front of the crackling fire. Tiger was fast asleep on his bed in the corner of the room, even though there was a storm raging. A fresh mug of herbal tea was on her side table, the fragrant steam curled upwards. She glanced at the Napoleon hat mantel clock as it began to chime nine o'clock. 

Rose reached for her mug, dropped her head against the back of the sofa, and breathed in the aroma of ginger, lemon and chamomile. She reflected on the events of the day. 

Chloe's emotional entrance and exit, the two suspicious men, Alec's protectiveness, and then the reminder of Him. She pushed the last memory away quickly. 

She let her mind settle on Alec, and quickly realised that she felt a surprising sense of contentment when he had admitted that they were friends. Chloe had thought that Alec was interested in her, and without a second thought, she had defended Alec Hardy to the young woman. He certainly was not a nice man; he was usually grumpy, terse, and cold. So why had she been so quick to come to his defence? 

Both the Reverend and Chloe had charged her with flirting. She had to admit to herself that she had flirted with Hardy, but then again hadn't she always been a flirt? She flirted with Him when He wore leather, and then when He wrapped himself in brown pinstripes, the intensity of her flirtation had increased exponentially. And then the flirting stopped. The day the white wall divided their hearts, Rose had stopped her flirtatious ways. So what was it about Alec Hardy? Why was she letting her guard down around Alec? Flirting with this man who was so different, yet wore the same face as He did? 

"You aren't the same man!" she reprimanded herself, startling Tiger awake. The dog lifted his head, looked over at her, then rested his head back on his paws. 

She needed to stop thinking about both Him and Alec, so Rose logged into her email and, as expected, found a message from Pete. Rose giggled as Pete recalled Tony's recent visit to the London Zoo. Jackie had been taking Italian cooking classes and had made a fantastic dinner earlier that week. Jake Simmonds, code name Shaggy, had a new pet pig. Pete had seen his cardiologist, and been given orders to de-stress his life, but that was nothing new. 

_Sorry about this next bit of news. Shaggy figured out you aren't in Fiji. A tech that worked on your fake accident footage was talking with Shaggy and said something to him about your 'auto accident'. Shaggy stormed into my office, and I thought he was going to have a heart attack, sweetheart. I tried to tell him it had been staged because you were deep undercover, but he didn't buy that, not for one minute, so I let him in on it. He says he understands and won't bother you. He also wanted you to know that he misses you._

_Which leads me this. I am very upset with you. You didn't tell me someone broke into the shop and sent you to hospital. I found out today when I was going through my junk email folder. The automated alert I set up to email me if your medical records were accessed was in the junk folder. I know you have your reasons for wanting to be anonymous, but it's important that I know these things! Please don't keep that sort of thing from me again._

_Love and hugs._

_PS Tony drew a picture of you riding on an elephant. I thought you'd get a kick out of it, so I scanned it._

oOo

"You seem tired today. I'll go easy on you," Alec said with a sniff. 

While his tone seemed condescending, Rose was never sure when he was showing his dry as a bone sense of humour, or being his often rude self. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

"I feel fine." Rose put her hands on her hips and twisted her torso to stay limber. "Can we go this way today?" Rose pointed over her shoulder, towards her home. "Why don't we change things up, go this way." 

Alec looked up the beach. She was pointing in the direction that Danny Latimer had been found. He rarely ran that way. 

"You set the pace. You really are breathing hard."

This time, Rose could tell he was being kind, the prior hints of arrogance were absent. 

"I'm telling you, I feel fine. Now get those skinny legs of yours moving! Shift!" Playfully, she shoved him in the back. 

Rose and Hardy headed down the beach. Alec ran alongside, noticing that her pace was significantly slower than it had been any other time. Her face looked pale, and she was breathing hard. 

When they had reached the point on the beach where sand met the cliffs, Rose slowed to a stop, turned and faced the surf, winded. A granite marker and a few weathered pinwheels were stuck in the sand about twenty feet down the beach. 

"That's where Danny Latimer was found, isn't it?" Rose asked, her voice cracking. 

Alec nodded, glancing at her sideways. From the sound of her voice, he thought she was crying, but he saw no tears. 

"I found the memorial on a walk with Tiger. I hadn't known about the murder then. I thought maybe someone had drowned, or there was a shipwreck." 

Both fresh and artificial flowers adorned the sand around the stone cross. 

"From what I have read, it sounds like it was a really hard case to solve." Rose cleared her throat several more times. 

"Aye. One of the hardest." He did not elaborate, then turned and looked at her. He scowled, eyebrows furrowed. 

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Her voice was now hoarse. 

"You really don't look too good, Gwen." 

"Well thanks, you sure know how to make a girl feel good," she said, grumpily. 

"You know that's not what I meant." He put his hands on his hips.

"Sorry. I know you didn't mean it that way. You're right. I am feeling a bit poorly." 

"Your run is done," Hardy said with authority. 

"But we've only done about a mile," she croaked. 

"Home. Now. And I'm taking you." 

"What, like a police escort?" she joked. 

"Yes, if it comes to that." He nodded, jaw set. 

"I'm beginning to think you're..." Rose cleared her throat and smiled. "...you're stalking me, Detective Inspector. Seen you driving past my house at least three times this week alone." 

"Was just going to Baker's," he said, defensively. 

Rose laughed quietly. Even though she was now sure she was coming down with something, she felt compelled to continue to tease him. "Oh, I know you were at Ellie's. She tells me everything. Well, almost everything." She paused to clear her throat. "But not once have you ever bothered to knock on my door." 

"Never been invited." The words came out before he could self-censor his thoughts. "Not that I want to be invited," he added with a smirk, a sure sign that he was teasing her right back. 

Rose sputtered a laugh, but then she was caught in a fit of coughing. 

"Alright, no more talking for you, you're making yourself worse. I'm taking you home." His voice showed his concern. 

"What are you gonna do?" She coughed. "Throw me over your shoulder?" 

"If I have to, I will."

She shook her head as she coughed, then started to run towards home. 

Alec touched her shoulder, effectively slowing her. "No running, Gwen. Walk. Don't do this to yourself, you'll just make yourself worse." He took his windbreaker off, and draped it over her shoulders, and then felt her forehead with the back of his hand. "You are burning up with fever." 

They arrived at her bungalow within ten minutes, and by the time she reached her porch steps, she was feeling thoroughly ill. With her back to Alec, she unlocked the front door and let herself in. Neither saying goodbye, nor closing the door behind her, Rose collapsed on the sofa, and pulled the blanket up to her chin. 

Alec stood on the front porch, looking at the woman huddling under the colourful blanket. She had not even bothered to close her front door behind her. Someone needed to take care of her, as it was obvious she was not going to take care of herself. 

Alec Hardy decided to not wait for an invitation to Gwen Lewis' home. He walked in, and shut the door behind him. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

Alec stepped over the brass threshold of Gwen Lewis' home. He felt uneasy about inviting himself in. But then he heard Rose's hacking cough. _I'm committed now,_ he thought to himself as he closed the door, and turned the latch. 

Rose lifted her head and caught his eyes. "You stayed." 

He cleared his throat and nodded. "You need to get that fever down. I would hazard a guess you are running well over 102. Do you have ibuprofen?" 

"You know how Mum took my temperature when I was a kid?" Rose asked quietly. 

"Mercury thermometer," suggested Alec, somewhat impatiently. "Where's the ibuprofen, Gwen?" 

"Mum kissed my forehead," croaked Rose, smiling. 

Nervously, Alec shifted his weight between his feet as Rose started to rise from the sofa. 

"No, you really need to stay right there," he said, making and releasing fists. 

"I'm a big girl, and I can..." Rose coughed hard. "I can get my own medicine." 

"I'm sure you can, but you obviously haven't been taking care of yourself." He paused. "You should never have gone running this morning." 

Rose fell back against the sofa cushions, frustrated. "You make the tea."

He nodded, lips pressed in a firm line. "Fair enough. Where are your tea things?" he asked. 

She stood, draping the blanket over her shoulders. "Kitchen. Where else?" she answered curtly, her mood shifting quickly now that she was on her feet. Her head throbbed. 

Alec escaped into the kitchen, and Rose made her way to her bedroom. 

oOo 

While Alec didn't want to ask Gwen any more questions, neither did he want to open every cabinet. He surveyed the small room with his hands on his hips until he saw the electric kettle on the counter. He made an educated guess, opened cabinet above, and was relieved to find several tins of tea. Alec chose the loose-leaf Earl Grey. 

Having watched Gwen make his tea at least eight times a week for over two months now, he knew the steps forward and back. He used her method at home when he made his own tea in the evening. 

The cabinetry housing the dishes had glass doors, so locating the teapot and mugs required no searching. He filled the kettle with water, turned it on, and waited. Alec felt a chill. He half smiled, as the thought crossed his mind that he might fit in a pair of Gwen's sweat bottoms. They would be far too short for his long legs - which she had called skinny - but at least he would feel warmer. He ruled out asking her, instead deciding to build a fire in the grate. 

oOo 

Rose looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes looked sunken as dark circles marked the area around her eyes. Pale skin and a shiny forehead gave further proof of her fever, and her clothing felt like sandpaper rubbing over her fever-sensitive skin. Breathing was difficult and laboured and her chest felt heavy. 

Alec had been right. She had not been taking care of herself, and had felt run down for a few days. She'd refused to admit it to herself, not wanting to close the shop. Rose didn't want Chloe to be there alone, should Rowe send less polite "spies" next time. 

Rose pressed an infrared thermometer to her temple until it beeped twice. She couldn't remember having a fever this high as an adult. "103.2. No wonder," Rose groaned dramatically. 

Her arm felt heavy as she lifted it to open the glass-front door of the medicine cabinet above her sink. Locating the ibuprofen took a moment. She was having difficulty focusing, as her eyes felt like two large marbles being pushed from behind by the throbbing headache behind her eye sockets. Once the medication was located, Rose fumbled with the childproof, flip-top lid for a few seconds before she was successful. She dispensed two tablets, then swallowed them with a gulp of water sucked straight from the tap. 

_Couldn't have him poking through here,_ Rose thought to herself. Inside the cabinet were a few vestiges of her time at Torchwood: advanced medications not available to the general public. 

After using the "lemon tart" dimension hoppers, Pete Tyler's Torchwood team had exhibited mild symptoms of radiation poisoning, presumably from inadequate shielding during travel through the Void. All team members were given anti-radiation pills until tests showed their bodies were free of the toxic energy. Considering Rose had been propelled across the Void by the dimension cannon more than three dozen times, her physician had determined that she would have to continue the medication indefinitely. 

The medicine came in a blister package, with one tablet for each week of the year. It was important that she never miss a dose, and that it be taken at relatively the same time every Sunday. She always took it before her Sunday morning run, but this morning, probably in the haze of feeling ill, she had forgotten for the first time ever. 

Rose popped the pill through the foil, and placed it under her tongue. Her weekly reminder of Torchwood dissolved with a slight fizzing sensation. She frowned at the tangy, metallic taste of the antidote. She would now ignore that part of her life for another seven days. 

Finally, she took a third medication. It was a broad-spectrum viral inhibitor of alien origin, which had been the product of a technology exchange with a group of friendly scientists from Tana Minor. 

When it came to releasing new pharmacology for human trials, the Medicines and Healthcare Products Regulatory Agency (MHRA) was much more conservative than Torchwood. The powerful medicine was scheduled to be released to the public in a few years, but Torchwood personnel, and other key government officials, had been given the opportunity to use it, at their own risk. All but one of the panel of scientists had deemed it perfectly harmless, and Rose hated to be sick, so she quickly signed the waiver and stocked up. Depending upon the strength of the virus, Rose knew she would start feeling better in twelve to sixteen hours, but she knew it would make her very sleepy and somewhat loopy during that time. 

Needing to rid herself of the painfully skin-tight running tights, sports bra, and long-sleeved shirt, Rose changed into baggy, grey sweat bottoms and the softest top she owned, a pink fleece hoodie. She shuffled to her bed, and forgetting all about the tea she had requested from Alec, buried herself under her fluffy duvet and waited for sleep to come. 

oOo 

Outside, a fast-moving storm grew in intensity. Alec knew that the stream down the road from Ellie and Gwen's homes often left its banks and flooded the road during weaker storms than this one, rendering it impassible to all but the most rugged vehicles. He knew he wouldn't be able to get home on foot, at least not without risking his own safety. However, he felt uncomfortable just hanging around Gwen Lewis' home; on the other hand, he did not want to leave Gwen on her own. She was ill, and from how hard she had fought to admit she was even feeling poorly, he knew she would need someone to force her to rest. 

Alec looked through the kitchen window. It didn't appear that Ellie and her boys were home, but he dialled her home telephone number anyway; there was no answer. Next, he tried her mobile, but again, Ellie did not pick up. Alec didn't leave a message, as both Ellie and himself preferred texting to voice messages. 

Alec typed speedily. "Ring me ASAP." He pressed send, and then looked at the clock on the microwave. He realised that it had been fifteen minutes since he had made the tea, and Gwen still hadn't emerged. Starting and stopping a few times, and then with halting steps, he walked to her bedroom door and knocked. 

Normally quick to speak, he thought over his words carefully. "Is everything alright?" 

"Tryin' ta sleep..." Gwen answered quietly. 

Alec returned to the lounge, and pulled a straight-back, wood chair close to the crackling fire. Leaning forward, he held a mug of hot tea between his hands and looked into the flames. His phone vibrated, stealing his attention. He straightened up and accepted the call. 

"Just got your message. Everything okay?" Ellie asked, alarmed. 

"I'm okay, but Gwen isn't. She came down with something while we were running this morning, so I walked her back home. I need a ride to my house. How soon can you get here?" 

"Have you looked outside?" Ellie said, slightly screeching. "I can't give you a ride!" 

"But I don't have my car, Baker, and I don't think it would be a good idea running home in this storm," Alec replied, irritated. 

"I literally can't, and don't you dare try to go home on foot. The stream has flooded across the road. You're stuck there, and we're stuck in town, hanging out at the station." 

"Bollocks," muttered Alec. 

"Well it can't be all that bad, Hardy. You're with Gwen, after all," Ellie said with a smile in her voice. 

"Baker..." he warned.

"Well, watch telly or something. Make her something to eat."

"Ugh. I hate telly, and she's sleeping."

"Mop her kitchen. Do her dishes. Clean her loo. Do something to impress her," she suggested. 

"Why would I want to impress Gwen?" he asked, bluffing. 

"Because you like her...a lot, and I am pretty sure the feeling is mutual." 

"You're full of sh-" 

"Oh shut it, Alec. Neither of you are fooling anyone. Well...except each other, maybe." Ellie laughed. 

"Any idea how long I'm stranded?" he asked testily, changing the subject.

"When it's raining as hard as this? Not for a good half a day until after the rain stops." 

Alec scrubbed his hand down his face, and muttered something rude. "What if there's an emergency? What do you do?" 

"I've seen emergency vehicles get through the flood waters. If either one of you start to have heart palpitations from holding back, call 999, and the paramedics will come." 

"You are very funny, Baker," he said. 

Ellie laughed. "But seriously, what's wrong with her?" 

"High fever, I'd guess it was over 102. She took ibuprofen and went to bed," explained Alec. 

"Blimey, that's a high for an adult. Any other symptoms?" 

"Coughing, raspy throat. I noticed she was short of breath when we were running, so I imagine fatigue. Hasn't sneezed, and isn't congested." 

"Definitely sounds like flu. You should call her physician and ask for some advice." 

"So sorry, but I don't happen have a contact for Gwen Lewis' physician in my phone...or her hairdresser, dentist or favourite restaurant either." 

Ellie sighed. "Call the hospital, then." 

"I don't feel all that comfortable doing that. They aren't going to release any personal information to me, and I'm not going to wake her up to ask her the name of her physician." 

"I'm awake..." Rose shuffled around the corner, wrapped in a fluffy, white robe over her track pants and hoody. 

"Ellie wants to talk to you," Alec lied to Gwen, eager to pass off the telephone conversation. Rose nodded, and took the phone. 

"Hey, Ellie." Rose's voice was hoarse and quiet. 

"Ah, sweetheart, I'm so sorry you're sick. Sounds like the flu. It's going around town like wildfire." 

"Yeah...I feel pretty rough. I got a flu shot though. It was required at Tor-at work." 

"You know those shots don't prevent every strain, Gwen. Remember when Tom was sick a couple of weeks ago? It was the flu, even though I had him inoculated last fall," explained Ellie. "I took him to his paediatrician within the first twenty-four hours, and they gave him something to speed it along. Tamiflu? Yeah, that's what it was called. That reduced the severity quite a bit...but you're stuck, so you can't go to A&E and get dosed. You really need to take this seriously, Gwen. Make Alec wait on you. I am being perfectly serious." 

"Did the stream overflow?" asked Gwen, ignoring the final few comments. 

"Mmm hmm. Is Alec treating you well?" Ellie asked. 

"Dunno. Been asleep," replied Rose, hugging herself. 

"Give him the mobile," Ellie ordered. 

Rose sputtered a laugh. 

Alec smirked. "What?" he barked into the telephone. 

"Feed her," Ellie commanded. 

Alec turned away from Gwen, who had sat down on the sofa, and pulled a blanket around her shoulders. 

"No, I think I'll starve her." He rolled his eyes. "She's been sleeping, Baker. I suppose I could have put a tube down her throat," 

"I'm being serious now, Hardy. Don't let her lift a finger. The flu strain this year is damn serious. Make her comfy on the sofa, and bring her something to eat, if you only heat up some tinned soup. Or tea and toast. You're bright, use your imagination. But make her something, and bring it to her on a tray," ordered Ellie. "I told you to not touch that computer, Freddy!" hollered Ellie to her son. "I've got to go before the boys break something. Bye." 

Alec ended the call, and set down the telephone. He looked over at Rose. She was curled up on her side on the sofa, cheeks rosy, and her hair, mussed. He sighed, and scrubbed his hand over his scruffy jawline. 

oOo 

"Uh, I made you chicken soup, toast and tea," said Alec, carefully balancing a saucer of soup and cup of tea on a tray that he had found propped against the tile backsplash next to the refrigerator. "Well, I didn't make it, I opened a tin." 

The ibuprofen brought the fever down somewhat, and her head was no longer pounding. "What'd you do? Snoop through all my kitchen cupboards?" Rose asked quietly. 

"I...uh...yes. Ellie suggested I make you something to eat, and..." 

Rose sat up, smiled, and balanced the tray on her lap. "Thanks." Rose dipped the spoon into the soup and tasted it. "Mmmm. Why does salt always taste so good when I don't feel well?" 

"It does," he agreed. "You...feeling any better?" he asked awkwardly.

"Yeah, I am. Fever's down a bit. Was 103.2 when I took it earlier. Now it's 101."

"That's still too high. When you're done eating, go back to bed," he said firmly.

She raised a single eyebrow.

"I mean I...I think you should go back to bed." He corrected himself, trying to soften his tone. 

"I think I'd rather rest out here for a while," she said. "Thanks for laying the fire. It's nice." 

He nodded, and returned to the straight-back chair by the fire, the farthest seat from her. "The rain isn't letting up anytime soon. I'm afraid you're stuck with me." 

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the sofa. She wouldn't let the memory of Him saying something very similar on an impossible planet overwhelm her. 

"There's always the telly," she offered.

"I hate telly. Ugh," he smirked. "I don't even own one." 

"I bet I could find something you would like to watch," she croaked. 

"No you won't." He was quick to reply. 

She grasped her tray and stood up to take it into the kitchen. 

"I'll take that for you. You...get..." He remembered Ellie's word. "...comfy on the sofa. I'll get you another cup of tea." 

She reclined onto her side, and curled up under the blanket, resting her head on a pillow. She watched his back as he exited the room. Having nothing warmer to change into, he was wearing his running shorts and a plain, navy blue tee shirt. She couldn't help but notice his toned legs. Rose had always wondered what His legs looked like under those pinstriped trousers. She had imagined them a thousand times - probably hairy, if his "manly, hairy hands" were any indication - lean and muscular from all of that running. Alec's were rather impressive. 

"Do you want anything else while I'm in here?" Alec looked over his shoulder and caught her staring at him. 

"No, 'm fine." She smiled at him, continuing to look at his legs. 

Alec scowled slightly, and disappeared into the kitchen. _She's loopy from the fever,_ he told himself. 

Tiger stood from his bed and stretched his long, skinny body. Lazily, he walked to Rose, and nuzzled her leg. "Hi boy. How are you doing?" She rubbed him behind his ears and kissed the top of his head before stroking his side a few times. 

Alec returned with two mugs of tea. He set hers on the side table that was closest to her head, and returned to sit on the hard, wood chair by the fire. 

"Why you sitting on that thing?" she asked. "Don't even know why I bought it. Looked brilliant in the catalogue, but it's bloody uncomfortable. Sit on the sofa." 

"I want to sit close to the fire," he replied without looking at her. 

"Oh don't be stupid." She cringed, realising she sounded just like her mother. "Move one of the comfy chairs," she said, then cleared her raspy throat. 

He stood slowly, and carefully lifted one of the comfortable upholstered chairs, so he wouldn't scratch the wood floor.

"I'm sorry that I don't keep any spare men's clothing in my closet," she said. She was almost flirtatious. 

He cleared his throat. _Glad you don't,_ he thought to himself. 

She picked up the remote, and aimed it at the television. Together, they watched the weather report, learning that the heavy rain-producing storm was stalled over the area, but would move out overnight as a cold front would be pushing it inland, leading to clear, cool sunny skies for a few days. 

"Pick what you want. Really, I won't watch," he said. 

After skimming channels, she landed on a documentary about the recent return of the bees. She couldn't tell Alec, but she knew their disappearance had occurred just before Torchwood had noticed the stars vanishing. 

"You're watching," croaked Rose, smiling drowsily. 

Alec had turned his attention away from the fire, and was craning his neck to watch. 

"There are many scientists who believe that bees did not originate on planet Earth." The narrator, who sounded a lot like Judy Dench, halted while a three-dimensional computer generated image of a bumblebee rotated on the screen. "From a purely aerodynamic standpoint, this magnificent creature should not be able to fly. Yet she does, defying the known laws of physics." 

"Alien bees, eh?" He was obviously skeptical. 

She would normally have been quick to challenge his doubt, but she wasn't sure that Gwen would. Her eyes were already closed, too tired to either answer or rebut Alec. Soon, she was lulled to sleep by the calming voice narrating the documentary, the crackling of the fire, and her body's defences working overtime in conjunction with the anti-viral medication. 

As soon as Alec knew Gwen was asleep, he retrieved the television remote from Rose's weak grip, careful to not touch her skin. He turned down the sound, and scanned through the channels until he found the music stations. 

He settled upon something quiet and calming, refilled his tea and returned to the comfortable chair that Gwen had insisted he move closer to the fire. His mind quickly drifted as he fell under the spell of the crackling wood and warmth. 

The past year and a half had been the continuation of a nightmare that started years before. The slow decline of his health... Growing apart from his wife...and then her affair. Taking the fall for the sake of his daughter, and the subsequent estrangement from his darling girl... The loss of the hard-earned respect of his friends and colleagues... Moving to this bloody dreadful town. Danny. His heart conditioning worsening. More pain... 

But as he looked into the flames, he realised he was no longer downright miserable. People with whom he worked still thought him a grumpy bastard, and told him as much to his face. But Ellie had become a stalwart friend, though he was loathe to admit it. They argued like a pair of teenaged siblings most of the time; but when it mattered, they were there for each other. 

Ellie had bravely defended him when the hard questions came after the official post-case inquiry, even when she was brokenhearted herself for the turn her life had taken. 

He drove her to the trial, sat with her in the gallery, even let her cry on his shoulder, in private, when it was all said and done. 

She had persuaded him to have the pacemaker implanted. "Do it for your daughter. She's just as stubborn as you are, I bet. Once she lets the truth sink in, she'll come around." 

He had helped her clear out her old house, and move into the new home on Old Church Road. 

She had encouraged him to move out of the hotel and find a permanent place of his own. The cottage he had chosen was surprisingly charming, but over one hundred years old and in need of repair. It was just far enough outside of town so he didn't feel like he was being watched all the time. 

He'd fallen into a routine since his surgery, and no longer despised his very existence. He certainly hadn't been content or even happy. But having a friend in Ellie was definitely a step in the right direction. 

But what he was feeling now, at this very moment as he looked into the fire, was altogether different. It was one thing to let in a friend, and to be a friend in return. It was another thing to let your frozen heart thaw. 

He sipped the slightly bitter tea that he had reheated in the microwave and looked around the room. It was devoid of photographs, and there were only a few decorative items, but they looked to be the sort purchased as a set from a home decorating shop, not collected over time and travel. 

Three watercolour paintings of flowers were artfully hung in a row. There was a set of hand-thrown pottery bowls, the colours of the sea, stair-stepped in size, sitting in the centre of the round dining table. A console table was attached to the wall near the front door with a mirror above, and a square reed basket was perfectly placed in the center, filled with bits of sea glass. One of the chairs had a dark blue screen printed throw pillow with a twist on the familiar "Keep Calm" theme: "Keep Calm and Run On." The silhouette of a figure running replaced the standard image. 

Other than those few decorator touches, there were very few things that offered a hint to the woman's personality...except perhaps the two shelf bookcase against one wall. It was completely filled. Books often offered hints, and sometimes, spoke volumes about a person. He owned several bookcases, which were packed tightly with both classic and modern literature, biographies, ancient and modern history, investigative theory and philosophy. He had to do something all of that time he spent alone in his stone cottage. Reading filled his spare time, what little he had. 

Hesitantly, he rose from his chair, and made his way to the bookcase. His curiosity about Gwen Lewis overshadowed his hesitance to snoop, so he bent over and began his investigation. 

"Austen, the Brontës, all nine Harold Potters, biographies about Queen Victoria, histories of the British Monarchy..." Alec ran his fingers along the spines until his attention was caught. 

He crouched on his heels. One book was pushed out farther than the others, a thick paperback mystery, the kind he could solve in the first chapter. He pulled it out to see what was obviously stuck behind the book. 

"Interesting," he whispered as he looked at the leather bound copy of Dickens' last and unfinished novel, _The Mystery of Edwin Drood._ He found the underlying darkness of the Victorian era compelling, and wished he had his reading glasses with him, as it had been a long time since he had read Dickens. He decided to read for a while, until his eyes became too tired. 

The book had been opened before, as the binding didn't crackle as he carefully opened to the centre, balancing it on one hand. Out fell a photograph. It landed face-down, and he saw writing on the back. He recognised Gwen's looped handwriting, having reviewed her written account of the assault far more times than was necessary for his investigation. 

"London 2012," he read to himself. He turned it over, and looking back at him was a younger-looking Gwen standing next to a much taller, handsome man. The combination of his manically spiked hair and clothing made him look like he had stepped from the pages of _GQ_. Gwen's arms were wrapped around him, and he was pulling her into his side. The pair were smiling brightly, or perhaps laughing, as the man held out the camera at arms' length, and snapped the picture. 

Gwen's hair was longer, and pulled to the side into a messy ponytail. He was somewhat surprised how much her looks had changed in only two years. She appeared to be in her early twenties in the photo, but he knew her to be twenty-eight now. He had checked, wanting to remember her on her birthday. 

He looked over at the sleeping woman. From across the room, he could see that her face was flushed and glistening. He slipped the photo back into the book and closed it carefully, before setting it on the bookcase. He approached her, and felt her forehead with the back of his hand. Gwen's fever was elevated again. It had been six hours since they had ended their run, so another dose of ibuprofen would be appropriate, but he didn't want to wake her. 

Her lips moved, and she frowned in her dream state. "Doctor," she muttered. "Never gonna leave you." She contorted her face, looking desperate and in agony. "Take me back...take me back...take me back..." She whipped her head back and forth as she spoke, but then stopped. She turned onto her side, and was silent and still once again. 

He stepped away from her, and again picked up the book. He pulled out the photograph and studied it. In the relaxed state of sleep, Gwen looked like the younger version of herself in the photo. Awake, her face was far more serious, thinner, and more mature looking. He certainly didn't think she looked old, but awake, she looked her age. The Gwen of the photo looked much younger than a woman of twenty-six, given the year. 

The man was well groomed, and he knew that most women appreciated that sort of thing. "I suppose it wouldn't kill me to get a haircut and a shave," he said to himself as he looked back over at Gwen, wondering if she would notice the change. 

He _wanted_ her to notice. It had been a long time since he had cared about his appearance. After his wife had betrayed him, Alec promised himself that he would never let his heart be vulnerable to another woman again. He'd taken a while to admit it to himself, but Gwen Lewis had already broken his resolve. 

Alec looked at the photo once more. He memorised Gwen's luminous smile. He had never been on the receiving end of a smile so full of joy and life, and he desperately wanted that. He slipped the picture back into its hiding place, placing it between the cover and front fly page. He returned to the soft chair by the fire, and opened to the first page of the novel, but stared at the words, unable to concentrate. Something was nagging at him about that man. He looked familiar. Had he known him from his prior position? Was he famous? 

One more time, he pulled picture from between pages. He turned his attention to the man standing next to Gwen and frowned, feeling a vague sense of unease as he studied the man's face. He felt his own rough beard, and ran his hand through his messy hair. His heart started to beat double-time, blood rushed to his ears, and for a moment, he thought he might be having a heart attack. 

Alec Hardy was staring at his own face...not someone who resembled himself, but a mirror image. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

Alec Hardy was staring at his own face...not someone who resembled himself, but a mirror image. 

Had he caught the flu from Gwen? Was he hallucinating with fever? Or maybe it was a dream...no...make that a nightmare. 

He closed his eyes, and waited for his heart-rate to return to normal, and then moved close to a lamp that provided better light. He examined the photo closely, and was now certain he had not imagined it. Alec did, indeed, have the same face as the man in the photo; and not only that, they were of the same height and build. 

Detective Investigator Alec Hardy needed to know details. Who was the man? What was the relationship between himself and Gwen? What had happened in 2012 London that was so significant that it was the only photographic evidence of her past, as far as he knew? 

Alec Hardy - Alec the man - had a different set of questions. Was the man her boyfriend, or perhaps even her husband? From their body language, it was highly doubtful that their relationship was just platonic or even familial. Gwen's arms were wrapped around the man's torso, one hand splayed over his chest, slipped slightly under his suit coat. Her head was resting on his chest, and she was smiling so widely that her eyes were almost closed. One of his arms was around her shoulders, pulling her close. Had he not been holding the camera, it was likely they would have been locked in an embrace. 

What had happened to cause Gwen Lewis to lose the fresh-faced bloom of youth, as seen in that photograph, in only two years? Gwen was almost gaunt now, beautiful to be sure, but very thin. Her cheekbones and jaw were pronounced, whereas in the photo, her features were softly rounded. It was hard to tell in the photograph whether her weight had dropped as well. The Gwen he knew had the sleek physique of a serious athlete on a strict diet of lean protein and vegetables. However, he knew that Gwen didn't deprive herself of sweets, that she drank wine, ate fish and chips, and followed no special diet whatsoever. Was there something else that was keeping her weight low? Was it stress, or God forbid, a chronic illness? 

Gwen had told him that she'd moved to Broadchurch for a fresh start. Was she running from something? Or from someone? 

Alec's attention was captured when she stirred slightly. "Doctor," she sighed before she flopped from her side to her back. She muttered something unintelligible before settling again. 

He wondered who this "doctor" was, and if he or she could be a key to the mystery he was watching unfold around Gwen Lewis. Then he remembered that she'd mistaken him for a doctor at the hospital. She had called him "doctor" with relief, and possibly even surprise. Had Gwen thought he'd been the man in the picture? Was the man in the photograph her doctor? 

He stared at the man...his twin. Subconsciously, he raised his hand to his face, mirroring her gentle touch. In his mind, he played the memory of her voice, and remembered the tears in her eyes. Alec pursed his lips and breathed in and out deeply a few times before he tucked the photo back into the book, and put it onto the shelf. 

How was he going to bring up the subject of this doppelgänger? It had to be addressed. What if she had come to Broadchurch with the idea of finding him? What if she was some widow out of her mind with grief looking for her lost love in another man? What if her accident, the one that had caused the head injury, was related? What if the man had been killed in the accident? He shook his head, trying to stave off the decidedly black turn of his thoughts. Tea. He needed a cuppa. Maybe something to eat, too. Yes. 

After he'd finished a sandwich, he set his plate on the floor, and stretched out his body. The back of the chair moved, so he laced his fingers behind his head and reclined fully, adjusting his position until he was comfortable. 

This subject really had to be discussed sooner rather than later. Gwen certainly did not seem to be unhinged, nor did she have the profile of the classic stalker - he had investigated plenty of those, after all. 

He had met Gwen completely randomly. There was no way she had staged the assault in her back room at Zoka, and there was no evidence that she was tied to the Rowe brothers. 

Gwen was guarded about her past, but everyone was entitled to their secrets, right? She'd told him very early on that she had come to Broadchurch for a fresh start. Even the name of her bloody shop supported that. No, she was no stalker. 

He had plenty of his own secrets, after all. Gwen knew he had been divorced, but did't know any of the details. Or maybe she was too polite to bring up the subject if Ellie had told her more, which was unlikely. 

He'd been gravely ill, and a pacemaker was keeping him alive.

He'd perjured himself for the sake of his daughter. And there it was. The biggest secret of all...his daughter, Genevieve. 

Gwen stirred, and curled herself into a tight ball, hugging her pillow close. "Alec," she said quietly...and then she sighed. 

oOo 

Four hours later, Rose woke up to the sound of rain pounding against the windows, and a large, crackling fire in the grate. She lifted her head and saw a man sleeping in the reclined side chair by the fireplace. "Alec?" she asked quietly. 

He yawned, then stood, and stretched. "Musta taken a kip," said Alec. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep. Probably won't get a wink tonight." 

"Why you here again?" she asked, then coughed. 

"You don't remember?" he answered. "You've got the flu, and we're stranded because the creek flooded. You and me. Here. Together." 

"You and me...me and you...both of us, together!" she sang quietly off key, imitating the famous one-eyed monster. 

He looked at her with blankly.

"Mike? _Monsters, Inc._?"

"Sorry. Never saw it." Alec shifted his position, crossing his legs the other direction. 

Rose rubbed her eyes. "What time is it?" she asked, voice cracking. 

"About seven-thirty." 

Rose closed her eyes, and flopped back onto her pillow with her arm over her once-again throbbing head. "My head...it's killing me again." 

He strode to her side, and felt her forehead with the back of his hand. "Your fever is back. Where do you keep your ibuprofen?" 

"I'll go. Need the loo, too." She stood slowly, but swayed. "Loo too. That rhymes." 

Alec caught her, and smiled. "Steady now. I've got you." 

Rose looked at him glassy-eyed and nodded, but the movement of her head brought on another round of throbbing pain. "Ugh, this is cac." 

Alec raised an eyebrow and quirked a smile, surprised by her colourful language, and also seriously hoping he wouldn't catch the flu from her. 

"Aye, having the flu does make you feel like cac," he replied. "You know Gaelic?" 

Rose blushed. "I know how to _curse_ in Gaelic," she clarified. "Need the loo," she repeated.

"Yes, I know, and we're almost there," he said with a hint of humour. 

"Don't come in, and don't peek," she said sternly. 

"On my honour," he promised as they reached her bedroom door. 

"Stay here. 'S'private. My bedroom is where I sleep all by myself. Alone." She sighed heavily. "Why'm I here again?" She leaned against the door frame. "Oh yeah, the loo." 

Alec chuckled, relinquished his grip on her arm, and she shuffled inside, not bothering to close her bedroom door. 

He surveyed the bedroom without stepping inside, just as he had promised. The room, like the rest of her home was furnished simply in shades of cool blue and crisp white. The four poster bed had, in his opinion, far too many throw pillows arranged against the headboard. He saw no framed photographs on the bedside tables, the dresser, or hanging on the walls. At the foot of the bed, a Persian rug in perfectly coordinated cool tones, provided warmth and contrast to the solid wood flooring. 

How did Gwen Lewis, a single woman who owned a newsagent shop and café, afford this expensive furniture, a brand new Fiat, designer clothing - even if she mainly wore jeans - and the nicest home on the street? Again, Alec's thoughts began to race. Was she a young widow who had received a substantial life insurance payout? Was she an heiress? 

Gwen emerged from the bathroom, confused. "I came here for something else..."

"Medicine?" offered Alec.

"Yeah...'s'right..." Rose went back into the bathroom, and reemerged about half a minute later. "Do ya like my bedroom?" asked Rose. "Caught ya looking at it." 

"Yes. It is..." Alec cleared his throat. "It's lovely." He nodded and tugged on his ear. 

"Good."

Alec frowned subtly.

"What time is it?" Rose asked again. 

Alec looked at the alarm clock on Rose's bedside table. "Seven forty. That's PM. You slept about eight hours," he volunteered. 

"Blimey why'm I still so tired?" Unsuccessfully, she tried to suppress a yawn. "You're very ill, Gwen. You should really just go to bed," he suggested. 

"Not yet. Wanna go in my lounge an' sit by the fire. What'd you do while I was sleeping?" asked Rose. This time, she walked without his help, though still dizzy. 

"I read, then slept for a while." 

Rose plopped herself onto the sofa, then curled back up under the blanket. "Bet you're hungry, it's almost eight," she said, sitting back up far too quickly. She flipped the blanket off of her burning body. "I'll make us dinner." Her eyes were glazed. 

"Lay back down," he ordered.

"No, m'fine." She stood. "Whoa..."

"No, you are not fine," he said sternly. "Now sit back down, and I will make you supper." 

Gwen fell back onto the cushions. "Yer right, 'm not fine...I'm very not fine." 

Alec watched as she rested her head on the arm of the sofa and closed her eyes. Even while she was ill, she kept him transfixed. What was it about Gwen Lewis that made his heart race and captured his thoughts? 

Was it because she treated him, unlike most other people in town, with kindness, humour, and respect? She flirted. No one else flirted with him. No one. Gwen was independent, striking out on her own to make a new life for herself after _something_ \-- and he was convinced there _was_ something -- had happened to her. 

He was also impressed that she'd sent Rowe to the hospital with a kick to the sternum, even though he thought it foolish. Gwen knew about his divorce - Ellie admitted that she had told Gwen that he had an ex - and yet Gwen never pressed him about her. She had never pushed him about the Latimer case either, even though it was still a major topic of gossip in town. She had extended friendship to him, had told him that he could always find a safe place to get away from the "non-fans" in her shop...with her. And if all of those reasons weren't enough, she was beautiful. He had a hard time not thinking about those pink lips of hers, specifically how it would feel to kiss them. 

"Gwen," he blurted as he stood stiffly in front of the sofa, looking down at her. She startled and lifted her head to look up at him. "Yeah?"

"I want you to have dinner with me."

Rose stared up at him with a confused look on her face. 

"Oh, I said that out loud." He screwed up his face.

"But we are having dinner. You're making it," she said. 

He tugged on his ear. "I meant, um, you know..." He looked away, then back at her. "Out. A date," he said, punctuating his words. 

"Oh..." she said softly, before her bleary eyes widened. "Oh!" 

Alec nodded once and stepped back and motioned his head in the general direction of the kitchen. "I'll just...go throw us something together. How about some scrambled eggs?" 

Rose stared at him, mouth open.

Alec's shoulders slumped, and he left for the kitchen.

"'M'kay..." she answered quietly. 

Rose saw him pinching his nose as he rounded the corner, and she could hear him muttering, angry at himself. 

"That was a yes!" she called after him as loudly as her hoarse voice allowed. She followed him around the corner into the kitchen.

Alec stood, feet frozen in the kitchen for a moment before he slowly returned to the lounge. 

"But...why did you ask me now? When I'm all...yucky from sweating and fever?"

He cleared his throat. "Good a time as any."

She nodded, her jaw slack.

He was silent for a moment. "I'll just make...those eggs. And you go back to the sofa." He turned his back to her and smiled.

Rose stumbled to the sofa, and leaned on it. "I feel gross," she said to herself. 

Alec returned from the kitchen with two plates in hand, but Rose was not on the sofa. Now that he was away from the din of the exhaust fan in the kitchen, he could hear the sound of the shower running. He set the plates down and waited, clasping and unclasping his hands. 

A few minutes later, Rose returned wearing yoga pants and a vest. Her hair was still damp from her shower. 

He handed Rose a plate, and took his plate to the chair by the fire. 

"Sit on the sofa?" she asked him. 

He obliged, sitting on the farthest cushion from her. 

"What were you reading?" she asked before taking a bite. 

"Uh...found _The Mystery of Edwin Drood_ on your bookshelf. It's the only Dickens I haven't read. I hope you don't mind." 

Rose swallowed hard, and then looked into the fire. 

Alec thought she looked a million miles away. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have presumed-" 

She turned and looked at him. "It's fine. Really. It's...fine." Rose smiled softly. 

"It isn't just for show, is it? It's leather-bound." He thought about the photograph inside. Maybe she kept the book and photograph hidden - out of sight, out of mind. He felt very guilty. 

Rose sat silently, unsure what to say. After the dimension cannon backfire, she had requested that all of the things she had bought specifically to remind her of Him - the books on astronomy, the complete set of leather-bound Dickens, a DVD of every movie that was available that they had watched together - that all the items be donated. She didn't understand how that book had made it here, to Broadchurch. How could she have missed unpacking that book, and placing it on her bookshelf? 

She calmed herself. "No...that's what the books are there for. Just forgot I had it. Never got 'round to reading it." She cleared her throat and forced a smile. "Is it...is it good?" 

Alec noted that she did not mention the photograph. Maybe she had forgotten it? "Yes, it is very good, but I didn't get too far. I read until my eyes started getting tired. I didn't bring my reading glasses with me. I was going for a run, not to the library," he said with a half smile. 

"Yeah, about that." She sighed and looked down. "You were right. I never shoulda gone running. I've been feeling bad for a few days now, and I suppose I was ignoring it." She pushed her eggs around her plate with her fork. 

"Eggs okay?" he asked. 

"Yeah. They're good. My appetite's just off." The anti-viral medication had a side effect of appetite suppression. 

"I understand that feeling," admitted Hardy, wondering if now would be a good time to mention that he had ignored his own serious health problem. 

"What? Not bein' hungry? Y'are pretty skinny," she said, trying to keep a straight face as she teased. 

"No," he laughed quietly. "Ignoring my health," he admitted. "I've only recently begun running again. I've had some...serious..." He swallowed hard before he continued. "I developed heart problems a while back, and I refused to have a surgery that I needed. Almost died towards the end of the Latimer investigation because I waited too long, and by then my heart condition became critical." 

Rose set her fork down and turned to look at him. "Why would you ignore something so serious?" she asked, concerned. 

He ignored her question. "I have a pacemaker now. Everything is fine. No rugby, 'course, not that I ever played." He smiled, then was sober again. "You done with your supper?" 

She nodded, and handed her plate to Alec. He washed up the dishes, and returned a few minutes later with two mugs of fresh tea. He handed Gwen her mug, and then went to sit in the chair by the fire. 

"Come sit by me?" she asked. "Watch a movie or something?" 

He cleared his throat and nodded, then sat on the other end of the sofa. Rose switched the television on, then scrolled slowly through the channels. 

"Have you seen _Vertigo_?" Alec asked, as she paused on TCM's 'up next' screen. 

"No. Is it good?" 

"Gwen Lewis, shame on you for asking that. It's the best," he said with unexpected conviction. "It's Hitchcock. There's this retired detective played by James Stewart, see, and he's deathly afraid of heights. So Stewart's mate asks him to secretly follow his wife, 'cos his wife's been acting peculiarly. And then-" 

"Don't give it all away," Rose requested, setting the remote aside. "I wanna find out myself." 

As hard as she tried, Rose could not keep her eyes open, and about an hour and a half into the film, she fell asleep. Alec watched with interest, but remained mindful of the sleeping woman next to him on the sofa. She awoke to the sound of church bell tolling at the Mission San Juan Bautista, the final, tragic scene. 

"I missed the end...what happened?" she mumbled as she shook off sleep. 

"You missed more than the end," Alec said with a small chuckle. "It doesn't end well for Judy and Scottie." 

"He was sort of a creeper," she croaked, but then gasped quietly when she realised that her feet were in Alec's lap. "Sorry. Didn't mean...to..." She retracted them quickly, as pink spread across her cheeks. 

He cleared his throat. "I didn't want to wake you." 

"Uh, speaking of sleep, I think I'd better...go to bed now. You can..uh...sleep...the sofa converts into a bed. I'll get some things." Rose stood slowly, and left to retrieve bedclothes from a cupboard. 

By the time she'd returned, he'd unfolded the bed. 

"I'll make it up," he said, taking the bed linens from her. "You go to bed now." 

"G'night." Rose left, but returned a minute later to find him stooped over the foot of the bed, creating a perfect hospital corner with the top sheet. "Not exactly manly, but you can wear these if you want. This house is draughty at night." She handed him a pair of loose sweat bottoms and the largest tee-shirt she owned. 

He took them, although he was unsure whether he would wear them or not.

"G'night...again," she said quietly. "Thanks for taking good care of me."

Alec watched Gwen shuffle back into her bedroom followed by her nearly silent, faithful dog, and heard the quiet sound of her door closing. 

oOo 

Rose went into her bathroom, and took the second of three anti-viral pills. She regarded herself in the mirror for a moment, touched the small scar near her ear, then ran her fingers through her cropped hair. It had grown about two inches since she had moved to Broadchurch, but she was still keeping it short. The black circles around her eyes had begun to fade, and she had only coughed a few times since she woke up from her eight hour sleep. She took her temperature and her fever remained down. 

After cleaning her teeth and changing into night clothes, Rose climbed into bed, switched off the lamp, and settled into the mattress. Fifteen minutes passed, and she was still wide awake. She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. 

_Chloe was right. He does like me,_ Rose thought. She flopped onto her side and sighed heavily. She knew she was attracted to him. She had admitted that to herself months before, and had even admitted that to Ellie. 

But what if he _didn't_ look like the Doctor? If his appearance was taken out of the equation, would she still be interested? Could she ever want more with him? 

Maybe it was time for her to give herself the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it was time she give herself permission to be both confused and interested. 

She decided that tomorrow morning she would wake up choosing to no longer let her confusion get it the way, because she _did_ like Alec Hardy. 

She liked his gruffness and grumpiness.

She liked when he was serious, and when he let his dry humour show.

She liked his scruff...really liked it. 

She liked that he was in her shop every single morning at exactly six fifty-four, and that he always refused a pastry, and he never spoke poorly of Chloe no matter how many times the young woman insulted him. 

Ellie was her good friend, and she knew that Ellie trusted him completely. That counted for a lot. 

Maybe Alec Hardy was part of that fresh start that she had hoped for when she moved to Broadchurch.

Her last conscious thought was that Alec Hardy, under that seemingly impenetrable shell, was a good man. 

oOo 

Alec shivered under the fluffy down comforter. He'd added wood to the fire, fiddled with the thermostat, and was still unable to warm himself. Gwen had been right when she said her house was draughty at night. Intellectually he knew that the home was draughty all the time, but that Gwen probably only noticed it at night when she was in bed, alone...that big, cosy and comfortable looking bed...all alone with plenty of room for two. 

He flopped onto his back, trying to find a spot on the thin mattress that did not have a bump or valley. Dammit! With all of the geniuses in the world, why had no one engineered a comfortable sofa bed yet? Currently, a spring was poking his right clavicle. He thought of his alternatives. He was too tall to sleep stretched out on the sofa, and while the recliner was good for a nap, it wouldn't do for a full night's sleep. He could deal with the discomfort, but the cold... No. 

So he gave in and changed into the clothing that Gwen had offered. Now warm, he was able to relax. 

Alec smiled. Gwen Lewis had said yes to dinner. With him. oOo 

Rose woke up at her regular workday time of five am. The local morning radio presenter gave the status of all the roads that had flooded during the storm, and reported the waters covering Old Church Road had receded overnight. 

She showered, dressed, styled, and took her final dose of the virus inhibitor. As expected, her flu symptoms were all but gone. Rose was certainly tired, but able to function. She left her bedroom and crept into the kitchen so as to not wake Alec, but she found him standing at the counter, eating a bowl of steaming, fragrant oatmeal. 

"You're up!" Alec said, startled.

"Good morning," she said cheerfully. "Did you already make tea, or do I need to?" 

"Uh, no." He stared at her with furrowed brows. "Why are you up? Why aren't you... Gwen, you should be in bed." 

She smiled. "I'm a quick healer. You found the oats. Good. Did you leave any for me?" 

He nodded subtly, but continued to stare at her. "A virus as strong as the flu does not run its course in less than twenty-four hours." 

"I promise. I'm fine." Rose ladled a scoop of oatmeal into a bowl, found the jar of honey, and poured some over the top. "What?" she asked, as he continued staring. 

He reached out, and felt her forehead with the back of his hand. "But...you don't have fever." 

"See? Told you, I'm fine." She looked away. "Like I said, I'm a quick healer. By the way, I heard on the radio that the road is open. I'll give you a ride home on my way to Zoka so you can change for work." She noticed for the first time that he was wearing her clothing. She put her hand to her mouth and laughed hard. "Did ya raid my dresser while I was sleeping?" she asked between attempts to breathe. 

"You're the one to gave me these clothes to wear," he answered, defensively. 

"Me?" She pointed to herself and laughed even harder. "I musta been really out of it. What else did I do?" 

Alec looked down at his oatmeal and swirled his spoon around the bowl. "Well...you did sing. A little bit." 

"Yeah?" Rose smiled. "Was I any good?"

"I'd rate your performance a...seven out of ten, but I will give you a nine and a half for effort." 

They both laughed, and Rose leaned up against the counter next to him. 

"Alec, what will people say if they see you getting outta my car wearing my clothes at six thirty in the morning?" Rose asked, nervously biting her lip. 

"I live in the country. There isn't anyone around to see anything," he replied. 

oOo 

Rose drew in a breath of wonder as she rounded the corner of the crushed rock drive. "Your home...it's brilliant." 

He was glad she liked it, and he smiled proudly. "It was the caretaker's cottage for the old Broadchurch Estate. The manor home went to ruin after the fall of the monarchy. Stripped of everything of value by looters of course, but the home still stands. It's just a skeleton now, but still impressive. Just on the other side of that stand of trees." 

"I like old places," said Rose a bit wistfully. "Well, I'd better get to the shop so I can open on time. I'll have your tea ready and waiting for you." She said it without even questioning that he would be there. 

Alec got out of her little car, then lifted his hand as a farewell as he watched her disappear around the bend of the winding drive. 

oOo 

Rose sat on her sofa trying hard to keep from picking off her glossy red nail varnish. She was not sure why she was nervous. Yes she did. Of course she did. It had been ages she since had been on a date. Literally. Had things changed since she was dating Mickey? She felt both sixteen and eighty-six at the same time. What was expected of her? She should have asked Ellie. Was there time to call her before Alec picked her up? She looked at her watch. She had five minutes before he was supposed to arrive, so she dialled her friend. 

"Help!" squeaked Rose. "What am I supposed to do? What are we gonna talk about? Am I supposed to offer to pay for my dinner? What about after? Is he gonna expect-" 

Ellie laughed. "Gwen, it's just dinner. That's all. And no, you shouldn't offer to pay. Blimey, how long have you been outta circulation?" 

Rose didn't answer immediately. "Longer than you would ever believe."

"Oh, honey, don't worry. This is Alec you're talking about. He's socially inept. I promise, you can do no wrong in his eyes, and I'm sure he is a million times more nervous than your are considering he is completely and totally in..." Ellie stopped. "It'll be fine. I promise." 

Rose was about to ask her another question when she heard the solid thunk of a car door closing, Alec's recognisable footfall up the path, on the stairs, and then her porch. But then, silence... 

"He's here, standing right outside, but he's just standing there. Why's he doing that?" whispered Rose. "He isn't knocking. Should I open the door?" 

"See, Gwen? I told you. He is just as nervous as you are," said Ellie kindly.

Finally, he rapped on the door. "Wish me luck. He knocked," whispered Rose. "Bye." 

Rose stood, smoothed out her dress, and held her breath as she walked to the door. She opened it, and audibly gasped at the sight of Alec Hardy. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

Alec muttered to himself about steam and mould as sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down his back. The steamy remains of his shower hung in the air. He really needed to take a trip to Homebase tomorrow to buy an exhaust fan and install it ASAP. 

He wiped off the mirror and stared at himself. When had he become so lazy about grooming? He ran a hand over his chin and debated shaving it all off. The last thing he wanted to do was bring up a painful memory for Gwen. Tonight was not about shocking the woman. He truly wanted to get to know her. If he showed up on her doorstep looking too much like the man in the photograph, he had a strong feeling it would backfire. 

He attached the beard trimmer to his electric shaver and began cleaning up the well-beyond-fashionable stubble. He wanted it to look intentional, not the result of poor shaving habits. 

And then there was his hair. Alec had gone to an actual hair salon the day before, not his usual barber. Simply combing it and letting it dry where it landed was not an option. Why wouldn't that one bloody chunk of his fringe stay in place? The woman had promised that the whip stuff would provide _a naturally soft but strong hold -_ her exact words - but that one lock kept drooping onto his forehead. Not wanting to arrive late, he muttered in irritation about wasted money and left the steamy room. 

With hands on hips, he stared at the clothes draped over the chair. Ellie had made him promise to wear something other than those _bloody awful clothes_ that he wore to work every day. 

It had been several years since he had put on the midnight blue corduroy jacket and brown trousers. Both had been favourites of his, but he had not had an occasion to wear them since well before his divorce. An espresso brown shirt and golden brown and blue silk tie rounded out the look. 

The noose-like feeling of a too-tight tie was high on the list of things he hated. He straightened, loosened, and fiddled with the brown and blue silk until he was satisfied that the thing both looked, and felt, right. 

As he stood in front of the long mirror on the back of his bedroom door, he tipped his head and made an appraising face. "You don't look half bad, Hardy." He raised an eyebrow and turned on his heel to leave. 

Outwardly, Alec may have felt ready for his dinner date with Gwen. Inside, however, he felt like a shy sixteen year old boy who had asked out the prettiest girl in school, and then thought it was all a fantastic dream when she had said, "Yes." In his opinion, Gwen _was_ the prettiest girl around, but he was no sixteen year old. 

What business did he have asking out this twenty-eight year old woman? He was over a decade older than her. He had a daughter in her teens. Would Gwen react badly to learning about Genevieve? No, he didn't think that would be a problem. A surprise? Probably. But a problem? No. Gwen was rational. But when should he tell her? The subject of Ginny was important, of course, but not as urgent as The Photograph. 

How was he going to bring up that photo tucked between the pages of that leather-bound Dickens volume? Briefly, he imagined her throwing wine in his face and storming out of the restaurant, but then snickered at his ridiculous thought. Drama was not Gwen's style. Thank God. 

￼ As he swept through his kitchen, he grabbed the bouquet of Stargazer lilies he had bought at the florist on the way home from work. The cellophane wrapping crinkled loudly under his fingers, yet another reminder of the reality of tonight. 

He locked his door, twisting the knob to make sure it was secure, and then strode across the crushed gravel to the large shed behind his home. One by one, he swung the double doors open, and then backed out his rarely-driven personal vehicle, a 1978 Brooklands green MG Midget that had been a heap when he had bought it thirdhand during his second year at Magdalen College. 

After closing up the garage, he mulled if he might put the hood down. The evening air was refreshing, but the wind would make a mess of-- Damn his hair. He really needed the air. 

It was a ten minute drive from the outskirts of Broadchurch to the other end of town where Rose lived. He turned on the radio and hummed along to a bland pop tune from twenty years before. He cringed, noting that Gwen had been eight years old when that song had been popular. 

Another song came on -- a current one this time -- right as he rounded the corner that brought her home in sight. He pulled up, quickly smoothed out his wind-blown hair, got out of the car, and quickly walked across her gravel driveway. Slower now, he tramped up the front porch stairs. Through the front window, he could see her sitting on the sofa, talking on the phone. He knew she had seen him, but still he stood motionless. Finally, he lifted his hand, and rapped on the door. 

He could hear her heels make a pock-pock sound as she walked across the wood floor to the front door. It seemed like an eternity before she opened it. 

But then, she did. 

He realised quickly that his mouth was hanging open at the sight of Gwen Lewis in her black dress. But then he saw that her mouth was open just as widely as his. He heard her quietly gasp... 

"That bad, eh?" he asked, looking sideways with a smirk. 

"Uh...no. Rather the opposite," she said quietly, biting her lip. "Come in?" 

Alec cleared his throat as he brushed by her. "These are for you." He handed her the bouquet. 

Rose took the flowers, tipped her head and smiled genuinely. "They're beautiful. Thank you. I love Stargazer lilies." 

He nodded. "You're welcome. Uh, it's a fine night. If you have a hat or a scarf, you might want to bring it. I have the hood down on my car." 

Rose grinned. "You have a ragtop?" she asked, but then immediately realised her slip when his face screwed up in confusion. The term 'ragtop' was not used in Pete's World. She laughed nervously, quickly improvising. "Had a friend who used to call his convertible, Ragtop. Sort of a nickname." 

He nodded. "Or I could put it up if you'd rather not mess up your hair." 

"No!" Rose said a bit too loudly. "I mean, yeah." She smiled and shook her head. "I do want it down. I have a scarf, that is. But don't really need one with this haircut. Keep the hood down. That sounds brilliant, actually. I haven't been in a convertible in ages. I'll just go put these into water. Do you want something to drink before we go? Bottle of sparkling water? I have some Vitex in the fridge, too." 

"You drink that Vitex stuff?" he asked with a hint of derision. He thought she saw her brows furrow for a moment. "Uh no. No thank you. I can't drink it. Physician's orders. It has Guarana." Alec patted his chest, and studied her figure as she walked towards the kitchen to take care of the flowers. 

Rose had bought the dress in a London vintage shop when she had first arrived in Pete's World. It had reminded her of an earlier era, and at the time, she had wanted every reminder she could have of Him. It was one of the only things that she had kept from those early, hopeful days. She loved it that much. It was relatively simple, just a black frock with cap sleeves, and a flattering, but not too provocative, v-neck in both the front and back. Encircling her trim waist was a narrow, red belt. 

Alec enjoyed the view as the slightly flared skirt shifted and rustled with the subtle sway of her hips as she walked. 

"So where're you taking me, Inspector?" she asked looking back at him over her shoulder before returning her attention to the flowers. 

About four inches were added to her height by glossy red high heels, bringing those fantastically plump, bright red lips that much closer to his. He shook off a fantasy and tore his thoughts away from her mouth before she noticed his eyes were starting to glaze. He forced himself to relax before he followed her into the kitchen. 

She worked quickly, pulling the wilting flowers she had bought for herself out of the only vase she owned. She tossed them into bin, refilled the vase with water, cut off the stems, and then pushed the exquisite pink and white lilies into the vase. 

Not impressed by any of the restaurants in town, Alec had looked outside of Broadchurch to find the right place. "We're driving down to Chiswell on Portland Island, near the Olympic Sailing Academy. The restaurant is called Bluefish. Ah, we should be leaving sooner rather than later. It's a bit of a drive." 

"I hear Chiswell is gorgeous. I'll just go get my things." Rose returned quickly with a silk scarf, a jacket, and a small, black beaded handbag. She locked the door behind her and walked down the front steps. Turning to look back over her shoulder, she saw Alec checking the front door handle. She felt her cheeks flush, warm with affection. 

And then she saw the car.

"Why have you been hiding her? I love her!" Rose said, looking at the Midget. 

"Her?" he asked with a slight smile.

"Yeah. Don't all blokes do that? Name their cars?"

"I haven't named her. You mean like Bessie, or..." 

Rose's heart thumped hard, and she froze. When he had worn leather, before she knew about regeneration, he had told her a story about his old yellow automobile. _Had a car once. Called her Bessie._ She could hear his Northern accent in her mind and see that grin. Quickly, she drew herself out of the past hearing that Alec was still talking. 

"...so I rarely drive her. Just finished restoring her during my..." Alec cleared his throat. "...truncated retirement." He quirked a smile. 

"You fixed her up yourself?" 

He nodded. 

"You did a great job." Rose smiled. "Looks brand new." 

He opened her car door, and she climbed into the low vehicle, which was not an easy task wearing the new four inch heels. 

Alec joined her. "I didn't tell you inside," he said, before he turned the key. He was looking straight ahead, as he gripped the steering wheel. "You look... pretty." Only after he complimented her did he turn his head. 

Rose smiled and fiddled with her skirt. "Thanks." She hesitated. "You... look really nice, too." Rose would have been fully truthful if she told him that he was the most attractive man she had seen since Him, and even though he could have been the Doctor's identical twin, Alec was handsome in his own right. 

oOo 

Rose and Alec were guided to a table for two next to the window. A simple glass oil lamp flickered, casting a shadow of a potted white orchid across the white linen tablecloth. There was a sliver-view of the bay, and the gently bobbing masts of the sailboats moored in the marina. 

"This restaurant is brilliant," said Rose looking around the room. "Have you been here before?" 

"No. The Chief recommended this place," said Alec. He slipped on his reading glasses, and only met her eyes for a moment before he turned his attention to the fresh sheet. 

Rose nodded and bit her lip as she surveyed the menu. She peeked at Alec over the top from time to time. "It all looks so good," she said, only skimming the menu, paying more attention to her uncomfortable shoes. 

"I am thinking about the poached Sea Bass, but then there is the pan fried Trout..." said Alec, blandly conversational. 

The glossy, red patent leather of the sling-backs had been irresistible, even if they pinched her toes and rubbed her heels. It was only a few hours. She could handle that. Her better judgment had said _no_ but sensibile had lost to sensual. The strap on the left shoe was rubbing the back of her heel raw,. She knew there would be a blister before the end of the night. "Stupid shoes," she mouthed, as she mentally kicked herself. 

"You alright? Did you say something?" Alec asked with an odd look on his face. 

"Huh? Uh... yeah. No... 'M fine." She smiled at him as she subtly eased off her shoes. Instantly, she felt relief, and she sighed a bit as she crossed her legs. And then her bare foot grazed his ankle. 

In the space of a nanosecond, Alec's eyes popped open, astronomically wide, and he dropped the sheet of paper. 

Rose froze, knowing her ears, face, and neck were turning a brilliant shade of pink. "Uh... I didn't mean to... uh..." She picked up her menu to hide her burning face. Rose breathed in and out a few times. "My shoes are killing me, so I took 'em off. My foot slipped," Rose admitted quietly then slowly set down her menu. 

Alec cleared his throat as he picked the menu back up. "What looks good to you?" 

"Um, the deep fried halibut with herb crusted fingerling potatoes," she said, as calmly as she could. 

"Fish 'n chips? Come on now, get something better than fish 'n chips. This is a five star seafood restaurant after all," he said looking at her over the top of his glasses. 

"But I think they look really good, and I haven't had halibut in ages," she said, a bit defensively. 

"Could have taken you to the food wagon outside of the station," he griped. 

She rolled her eyes. "Like that roach coach could compare to this restaurant. First of all, these are made from Arctic Halibut. Who knows what kinda fish or other creature that guy uses. Second, it says right here on the menu..." Rose tapped the card, "...that the chef makes his own batter using Belgian ale and stone ground corn meal. Third, the potatoes are organically grown, multi-coloured, fingerling potatoes tossed with fresh herbs grown right here at the restaurant up on the roof. Besides, they are roasted, not fried, so technically they aren't even chips at all." 

"Alright Gwen," he chuckled, "you've convinced me. You go ahead and have those fish 'n chips." 

Their orders were taken and Alec chose a bottle of wine that paired well with both of their meals. Their green salads arrived with a basket of house-made flatbread. They made small talk, keeping the topics light while they ate. 

Their server returned. "How is everything?" she asked. 

"Fine," said Alec, quick to answer for both of them. 

The young server remained. She fiddled with her black apron. "I'm sorry to bother, but you look familiar." 

Alec sighed and smirked, looking away. "Yes, I'm-" 

"I'm sorry sir, but I didn't mean you. I'm trying to remember where I've seen you before, ma'am." 

Rose panicked for a moment. She rolled the white cotton napkin in her lap, twisting it into a tight coil. 

The young woman's eyes sprang open. "I remember now. You own that new little café down in Broadchurch, don't you?" 

"Yeah, that's my place," Rose confirmed, letting go of a held breath. 

"Me and my boyfriend stopped in a couple of weeks ago. You made me a coffee drink that tasted like toffee. Was delicious." 

"Thanks. Hope you come by again sometime," said Rose, smiling.

The young server left them, and Rose smiled softly at Alec, seeing the awkward look on his face. 

"Hope your dinner is good," she said, trying to dispel the nervous energy between them. "Because mine is brilliant." Rose's plate was nearly clean. 

"How can you possibly compare fish 'n chips to sea bass, line-caught just this morning, poached in herb infused extra virgin olive oil. These sacred herbs were hand picked by monks who've taken a vow of reduced breathing, so less carbon dioxide enters the oil, and yes, it makes a difference." 

"Under the first full moon of spring, yeah?" she tossed back, cheeky. 

"Absolutely." 

"Do you write a food column in your spare time?" She narrowed her eyes, and pointed her fork at Alec. "Really, this meal was gorgeous, and believe me, I know my fish and chips, Inspector." She finished the last of the food on her plate. 

"Would you like another glass of wine?" he asked, holding up the bottle of Masseo Blanco. 

"Yes, thanks." 

He topped off both of their glasses of wine, and then lifted his glass. "A toast." 

Rose lifted hers somewhat shyly.

"To the best looking couple in the restaurant..." His face was serious.

She blushed at the implication. 

"...who are sitting right over there by the fireplace." Alec looked over at a striking older couple a few tables over. 

Rose snorted a laugh, and touched her glass to his. 

"So, dessert?" offered Alec. 

"Mr. I-Don't-Eat-Pastry wants dessert?" Rose asked, surprised. She took a sip of her wine. 

The second glass was helping both of them finally relax. 

"It's a special occasion. Only get one first date with Gwen Lewis." He took a drink. 

"To think we met in the A&E. Me all loopy, head bashed in. And you were so rude!" she said with a tongue-in-teeth grin. "Ellie told me afterwards that you actually asked the physician how long I was gonna be out, 'cos you needed to get going." She crinkled her nose and shook her head, laughing. 

Alec knew it was time to seize his opportunity. "Uh, Gwen, speaking of the A&E, the first time we met, you..." he cleared his throat and looked down. "You touched my face." He looked down at the table, then back at her. "And I could swear you mistook me for someone else. Do you remember any of that?" 

Rose held her glass mid-air for a moment, nodded, and then set it down. "I remember enough of it." She clasped her shaking hands in her lap. "Alec... I... Uh..." She picked up her napkin and wiped her lips unnecessarily, then folded it and set it on the table. Rose closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them. 

She had to tell him. 

It would always be a secret barrier between them if she did not, at a minimum, confirm that he was the image of Him.

"You resemble..." Rose said slowly. "Strongly resemble..." She paused and shook her head. Rose started over. "Alec, you are the mirror image of someone I used to... travel with... and... and..." Her words began to spill out. "He was a historical research scientist, and I was his... assistant. We went... everywhere. Saw so many things together. But... he's gone now." Rose gulped the rest of her wine.

Alec drew in a breath and released it slowly. "Am I a substitute of some kind?"

Rose stared at him, breathless, motionless, needing to get the answer right the first time. 

"I am, aren't-" Alec began.

"You say exactly what you think when you think it. I never have to wonder where I stand with you. You're a bear in the morning, and I always know you will be right there in my shop at _exactly_ six fifty-four, and even though you're grumpy as anything, I can always count on you to make me smile. And you always leave me the sudoku from your paper, and you even fold the newspaper neatly, leaving it opened up right to it, 'cos you know I like to try to do it, even though I'm rubbish at it." Rose stopped, waited, hoped he was convinced. 

Gently, Alec touched her hand, and gave her the barest hint of a smile. "I have a confession to make too, Gwen. In that Dickens book I was reading, when you were sleeping off the flu, I found a picture. A photograph of you and a man. I was afraid to bring it up, because frankly..." He paused. "Seeing my own face looking back at me, standing with you, a much younger looking you..." Alec looked at her directly. "It was frightening, Gwen. I thought for a moment that I was going crazy, that somehow I had forgotten knowing you." 

She cleared her throat. "Could you tell when the picture was taken? I always wrote on the back." 

He nodded. "I recognised your writing. It said London 2012. Probably during the Olympic Games. There was a banner behind you. Looked like he was holding out a camera and aiming back - the picture was pretty grainy. The two of you looked... very happy." He clenched his jaw tightly and swallowed nervously. 

"I remember that day." She said softly, and looked off into nowhere before turning back to Alec. "Yeah. We were at the Olympics. He was... conducting interviews of people from as many different cultures and places as he could." 

"It was taken before your accident, wasn't it?" 

Rose nodded. "Yeah. Before my life went... pear-shaped." Rose crinkled her forehead and looked down. "So, dessert? I could use something sweet." 

"I have an idea..." 

oOo 

Twenty minutes later, Alec and Rose were sitting in a car park that overlooked the bay and the cliffs. 

"I'll be right back," said Alec leaning on the car door with a glint in his eye. "And kick those shoes off. We can play footsie." 

"Shut up," she said, rolling her eyes, but unable to keep from smiling and laughing.

He grinned back, pushed his hands into his pockets, and walked briskly off into the dark. 

The radio was playing a song that Rose liked. She turned it up and removed her shoes. She smiled softly, feeling much happier and more calm than she had hours before. One of her biggest secrets was out, and didn't seem to be upset. She leaned her head against the headrest and looked up at the stars, thankful that the night was unusually warm so that the hood could be down. The lights were dim in this part of town, and the sky was like crystal-studded velvet. 

Alec returned with two ice cream sundaes in his hands. "Hold these for a minute," he said, handing them to Rose so he could get into the car. 

Once settled, she handed him the caramel and vanilla confection, keeping the chocolate sauce over chocolate ice cream for herself. 

"Great idea," she said, mouth full of ice cream. 

"Sorry it took so long, there was a bit of a queue. It's rare we have such a warm night this time of year, not that I'm complaining." 

Rose sighed to herself, knowing the true reason for the continued odd weather. 

"So...Gwen Lewis." Alec paused, and relaxed against his chair. "Tell me about yourself." 

Now that the she had told Alec about the Doctor, in general terms at least, she felt much more comfortable about relaying her history. She smiled. "You want to know about my life before Broadchurch, yeah?" 

"How'd you know?" he asked with a grin. 

"Wild guess. Well, I grew up in London, in a tiny flat on a council estate. It was just Mum and me. Dad died when I was a baby. He was hit by a car." She told of gymnastics, her one day trip to France with her class, foolishly choosing Jimmy over A-Levels, and then working in a shop. 

Rose stopped, and sighed. "I met... _Him_ while I was working in the shop. I'm not sure what he saw in me, but we hit it off, I guess. Like I said, he did research, we travelled, we just... _were._ But one day he was there, and the next, he was gone." She looked up at the sky and brushed her palm under her eye. 

From the tone of her voice, it was clear that the man had meant the world to her "I'm so sorry. Were you and he...?" His voice softened further.

She blew air through her lips. "More together than I have ever been with anyone... but also... not." 

Alec's confusion showed. 

She shook her head. "If only we'd had more time." Her voice trailed off. "If only there'd been more time. I was able to tell him." She looked down at her ice cream. "And he was trying to tell me... when... as... he... faded. Well anyway." Rose cleared her throat. 

“He died.”

Rose’s mind froze. _What should I say? I’m already lying about so much. He died to me._ “Yes.”

Alec closed his eyes, and cupped her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He withdrew his hand when she didn’t lean into the touch.

“Anyway, after that, I picked up the pieces of my life, and got a job at a security firm in London. One night I had to work late. That wasn't unusual, but that night had been even extra hard. I was so, so tired, and that was the night of the accident.

Rose shrugged her shoulders. "They told me later it wasn't my fault even. I don't remember a thing about. Was in a coma for about three weeks. Had second and third degree burns on my face and hands. Thank God I was out of it during the burn treatments. I don't even want to think about what that entails. Also had multiple skull fractures, concussion, and some broken bones.

“But burn treatments have improved a lot in the past few years. But it still woulda hurt. A lot.” She half smiled.

Alec furrowed his brow. _I’m guessing that’s why she looks so much older than in the picture I found in the book._

“The accident was caught on CCTV.” _Thanks to a Hollywood blockbuster-worthy production._ “I won’t watch it, though.” Rose shuddered. Pete had used Rose's own vehicle with a dummy inside to stage the accident in an abandoned industrial area early one morning so that the incident could be intentionally documented by police and fire authorities. He had gone so far as to have his PA create newspaper and internet stories about the accident to corroborate the event. 

Alec stared at the ocean, listening to both the waves and the voice of the woman next to him. 

"So between losing Him, and that horrid job, and then the accident... Now can you see why I needed a change? Why I moved here? I had to get out of London, Alec." She turned in her seat to face him. "Your turn." 

"My turn? After you tell me all of that? I think you know me better than that, Gwen. I need to know. What in the hell happened in that accident?" 

"My vehicle... I guess... it accelerated on its own and I crashed into a wall. I hit a petrol pipe. There was an explosion. The building I hit, it exploded, too." 

"Mechanical failure..." 

"Yeah." Rose nodded. She turned to stare out over the water.

Alec’s eyes were warm and gentle now as he looked at her profile. He saw one tiny scar behind her ear. He touched it with a fingertip. “Is this…?” his voice trailed off.

“Shunt.” She tipped her head away from his touch, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s taken a while, and some days are still really bad.”

“Are you still in pain?” he asked, frowning.

“No.” Rose shook her head. “No. Just bad memories. But those days are rare now. And I think... I think I’m getting better now. Moving here was the right decision." She finally looked at him, then down at his lips. "You're a part of that, Alec. The getting better part. Did you know that?" 

He was quiet for a moment before he finally answered. "I'm glad." 

For a few seconds they were quiet. 

But then she lifted her hand from her lap. 

Slow. 

Hesitant. 

And then she took his hand. 

"Now will you tell me about yourself?" she asked. 

"All right." He cleared his throat. “I’m Scottish, if you hadn't figured that out already. Mum died a while ago, and Da lives up in Edinburgh. I don't get up there to see him as much as I should. Call them when I can, though. Tried to get him to buy a computer so we can video-chat, but, well, Da still writes me letters." 

"That's sweet. And of course, you write him back, don't you?" she asked. She smiled, and her voice was cheerful. _No more thinking about my past,_ she thought to herself.

He cringed. "I need to work on that."

“You better,” she said and then leveled a look. “The people that are important to you, they need to know that."

He nodded.

"Go on, tell me more," Rose said.

"I always wanted to be a detective. I watched far too many crime programmes when I was a lad. Was a wee bit obsessed with Sherlock Holmes there for a while." 

"Fanboy?" she asked, grinning. 

He nodded and laughed. "Mum even bought me Sherlock Holmes fancy dress kit." 

"Oh, I can see that. Had one of those funny hats yeah? And a cape, too, right? Big curvy pipe?" 

"The whole deal. You wouldn't believe the stuff I came up with. While the other boys were playing superhero, I was solving neighbourhood murders of my own creation." 

She laughed at his slip. 

"That didn't come out quite the way I planned it in my head," he said shaking his head with a smile. 

"I bet you were awfully cute in your cape, dashing about." For the first time that night, Rose felt completely at ease. 

“ _Cute?_ ” he raised one eyebrow. "I don't think anyone has me cute since I was a bairn.” 

"What I said actually was that you _were_ cute," she corrected, mock serious. 

He made a displeased sound. 

"Oh yeah. Definitely cute. With those freckles of yours, and those big brown eyes." She grinned. "So what did you do after you hung up your cape, Detective Inspector?" 

"Studied at Oxford."

"Which college?"

"Magdalen."

"Is that the one that has the deer mucking about their garden?" 

He smiled. "Aye. They can be really mean, too." 

"Had a run-in with a deer did ya?" 

He laughed with her. "Next I took a masters in criminology and criminal justice." He grew a bit more sombre. "Got married the week after I earned my masters." 

"How'd you meet her? Your ex, I mean.” Rose gasped, and then bit her tongue, knowing she shouldn’t have asked that. "Sorry, that's none of my business." She laughed nervously. 

"No, it's all right. We met while she was a records clerk in the Oxford constabulary archives. I was doing some research, and she helped me navigate the files. I was planning to continue my studies, go for my doctorate, but then... well that was put off. Joined the police force, became a detective, and life went on. Never got back round to it." 

"You still could, you know, get that doctorate," Rose encouraged, squeezing his hand. 

"Haven't thought about it in years, to be honest." 

"If it's something you still want, you should go for it." Again, she squeezed his hand and smiled at him. 

Spontaneously, Alec leaned forward and placed a brief, but soft, kiss on the corner of Rose's mouth. She sucked in a quick breath, and Alec pulled away nervously. 

"I'm sorry, I should have asked first," he said. 

"No." She shook her head. "Don't be sorry, Alec." Rose cupped his chin, and kissed him, letting her lips linger on his, not pushing any further. She pulled back slowly, bumping her nose to his. 

"I retract my prior confession. Not sorry..." he whispered, leaning in again, wrapping his arms around her. 

The position was not optimal, with the gear shift between them, but neither of them minded. Not one bit. Their kiss quickly grew passionate. Both were a bit breathless when they separated, and both were smiling. 

"Been wanting to do that for a long time," Alec admitted, swallowing hard. 

"Glad you finally did." 

Alec looked at the clock on the dashboard. "It's late. You need to get up early." 

"It is? Didn't notice," she said. She sank back into her own seat, but kept her eyes on him. "Do you have to detect tomorrow, Detective Inspector?" 

"Hmm mm. Got the day off. Unless I get called in. Was going to run some errands tomorrow. You know, it is very boring being all alone. Would you want to come along with me?" 

"The shop..." she replied, disappointed. 

"Your shop closes early on Saturdays," he reminded her. "I promise. It will be thrilling. A trip to Homebase is _always_ exciting." 

"You DYI?" She laughed.  
"What is so bloody funny about the fact that I know how to take care of my own home?” he asked, mildly affronted. “Ellie laughed at that, too!” 

"Didn't think you would be the home improvement sort." 

"Oh, I am very handy." He stroked her cheek. 

Rose rolled her eyes. "Well I suppose you are, considering you refurbed this MG. Maybe I could enlist your help on a couple of things?" 

"All you have to do is ask, Gwen Lewis." 

"So what are we shopping for tomorrow, err, today?" She yawned, noting it was a little after midnight. 

"Bathroom exhaust fan. Gets steamy in there."

”Oh really. I rather like it steamy," she said flirtatiously. 

"Should I reconsider the project?" he flirted right back. 

oOo 

It was a little after one am when Rose and Alec arrived at her doorstep. She led him to up the steps by his hand, and without hesitation, they fell into a proper, passionate goodnight kiss. This time there was no pesky gear shift as a barrier to a full embrace. 

Rose sighed as Alec's fingertips caressed the nape of her neck, and then traced down her spine as far as the V-shaped opening of her dress allowed, which was not that far. While he was holding her close, the palm of his hand pressed firmly against her low back. He was not, however, roughly pulling her into himself in a provocative, needy way. She appreciated that he was not engaging in vertical foreplay. 

She wondered if it would be too much to give his hair a good tug. Rose imagined it would feel like silk between her fingers. While he was not rushing her, she was probably starting to make things difficult for him as her arms were now draped around his shoulders, and she was practically hanging on him, drinking in his kisses. But it had been _so_ long. Since before her first Doctor. And it felt so, _so_ good. 

But Rose had never been kissed like _this_ before. Ever. She knew exactly how to respond to him, and he, to her. He used his teeth, for heaven's sake! She was trying not to dwell on just how long it had been since she had been kissed, really kissed. She would not even entertain the thoughts of anything more serious than that. 

Couldn't, wouldn't even think of the word itself. She needed to stop right now, or she wouldn't. 

She couldn't. Not yet. It was too soon. Way, way, way too soon. But his lips...they were perfect and- 

Alec pulled away, and looked into her eyes. He tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. 

"Thank you Alec. Tonight, it was _perfect._ ”

"Aye."

"See ya tomorrow?" she asked, dreamily fiddling with the knot of his tie. 

"Make sure the tea is hot. And strong," he said, voice low. He kissed her once more. Just a soft press and release, and then stepped aside as she let herself in. After she had closed the door, and he heard the lock engage, he tried the knob, ensuring it was secure before he left for home. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

Wind whipped hair... That addictive surge of adrenaline... It's the fear of the unknown, that first time you step out... Seeing the sky from a never-before experienced vista... The brush of fingertips... A strong embrace... 

Still in a half dream state, Rose opened her eyes to the sound of the Vortex Boys harmonising about love, lost and found again.

She smiled, and stretched sleepily, remembering the warmth of Alec's fingers on the bare skin of her back. The way he had pulled her close. 

She turned into her pillow, and hugged it with broad grin. Rose certainly had not expected to be kissed like that. She sighed, then propped pillows behind her. She sat up and crossed her legs under her duvet before opening her laptop. 

_Hi Gemini,_

_You told me to let you know when I told someone about the car accident. I guess it was inevitable that eventually someone would want to know more about me and I would have to use the story. I hated lying to my friend._

_Keep those pictures of the littlest Gemini coming. I miss him. Tell Mrs. Gemini that the bike tour was fun, but I'm still not ready to come home. I've decided to hire a sherpa and climb Mount Everest._

_Give my love to everyone._

She looked at the clock on her bedside table. Unless she hurried, she would be late opening the shop. 

oOo 

Alec sat at his desk, staring at the screen, willing his fingers to begin the search. They were on the keyboard, but he felt guilty even thinking about typing words that would initiate the query. He made his fists into tight balls, released them, then pounded the keys. 

Year: 2013, 2014

Month: Unknown

Last Name: Lewis

First Name: Gwyneth, Gwen

Date of Birth: April 27, 1986

Location: London Metro 

Incident Type: Vehicular 

His right pinkie hovered over the Enter key for a moment, and then he pressed it. Alec leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling tiles, until out of the corner of his vision he sensed the "I'm thinking" symbol on his computer had stopped. One record was found. 

￼ Alec leaned forward, and studied the associated files attached to the incident record. There was raw CCTV video footage, a gallery of photos, a scan of the hand-written on-scene report, the final official report, and Internet links to several online news articles. Thinking for a moment which to open first, he settled on the official report. 

_Shortly after 0230, September 17, 2013, subject was driving home from a late night at work travelling westbound on Oliver Road. Subject was obeying the posted speed limit. Her vehicle accelerated from approximately 35 miles per hour to approximately 72 miles per hour in eight-seconds. On-board trip computer data indicates that repeated attempts were made to not only slow, but stop, and turn off the vehicle. All attempts were unsuccessful._

_CCTV footage shows subject swerving to avoid a collision with a delivery lorry, which was backing into her path. Subject lost control, and hit an empty warehouse, head-on. A utility gas meter was situated at the point of contact, and subsequently, a fire was ignited. The fire quickly spread to the empty structure, which in turn, spread to the vehicle._

_Emergency Services were contacted automatically by the collision sensor on subject's vehicle at the moment of impact, and a fire brigade was dispatched. Emergency extraction was required, and subject showed no signs of life; however, resuscitation was successful. Vehicle was fully engulfed soon after extraction, and subsequently exploded. Significant injuries were immediately observed including, but not limited to the following: head injury; second and third-degree burns; multiple lacerations and abrasions; open fractures. Subject was evacuated via helicopter to hospital._

_It was determined that the mini-computer controlling communication between the foot-operated accelerator and the automatic transmission was faulty._

_It is the official position of the post-incident inquiry that subject, Gwyneth Lewis, cannot be held responsible for this collision, any property damage, or any costs associated with the extinguishing of the fire, or subsequent demolitions required._

Alec clicked the red button to close the report, and pondered the findings for a moment. Gwen had said the accident was bad, and her injuries had been serious. He had no idea just how grave her condition had been. He drew in a breath and selected the video file. 

There were roughly four minutes of raw footage. Alec watched as the grainy nighttime footage played across his screen. Camera angles changed, as the large, dark SUV was passed from camera to camera. The time stamp indicated it was 0232, and the streets in the industrial area in the outskirts of town were deserted. 

The first time Gwen's face was captured, he leaned forward just a little closer, studying her face. She definitely looked younger. Her face was rounder, cheeks more full, and light-coloured hair reached her shoulders. Gwen appeared tired, but alert. Her window was down, and her lips were moving. He could not tell if she was singing, or talking to someone on a handsfree mobile - no earbuds, thank God. Alec still did not trust those things. 

A look on panic spread over her face at the twenty-two second point of the video. The SUV accelerated radically, and she blew right through several red traffic signals. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel like two vices. Her eyes were dodging back and forth, making sure the road ahead was clear. 

But then, a delivery lorry backed up, directly into her path. Her mouth opened wide, probably in a scream, and she swerved to avoid hitting the driver's side, but lost control, and collided with the masonry wall of a warehouse. He rewound, then slowed the video to quarter speed. 

Alec felt sick to his stomach as he watched her body strain against the seat belts as the airbags deployed. A small explosion lit up the screen, and the front of the building was immediately engulfed. 

Within two minutes, the fire brigade had arrived and the fire had spread to the engine compartment of Gwen's vehicle. Soon it was threatening the passenger area. Two men in fireproof gear used a claw-like tool to cut her door off of its hinges. They snipped her shoulder harness, and pulled her to safety right before the vehicle was fully engulfed. Ten-seconds after that, the SUV exploded. The video ended. 

Alec collapsed against the back of his chair. "Gwen should be dead," he said out loud. The impact alone would have been enough to kill her, had she not been in a new, sturdy vehicle with the very best safety features available. 

He closed the video. Alec did not need to see any more. He needed to see Gwen.

oOo 

Pete Tyler read the email flash notice. A Detective Inspector Alec Hardy of the Broadchurch Constabulary had accessed Gwen Lewis' accident file that morning. Just this morning, he had read the email from Rose. She said she had told a friend about the accident. Shortly after that, the flash notice landed in his inbox. He recognised the Inspector's name, but why? 

He did a simple Google search, and the face of a tired looking detective appeared along with pages and pages of links to news stories. Pete remembered now. This was the DI who had solved that awful child murder case in Broadchurch the year before. Why had Rose told this DI about her accident? He opened Rose's email and read it again. 

_You told me to let you know when I told someone about the car accident. I guess it was inevitable that eventually, someone would want to know more about me, and I would have to use the story. I hated lying to my friend._

Was Rose seeing this man socially, or was he just a friend? Pete's mobile rang. 

"Hey Jake… Yeah, I got the flash about that DI Hardy bloke... What do you mean?" Pete's email dinged, indicating a message had arrived. "Got it." Pete opened the message from Jake. "Bloody hell. He could be his twin... No, I don't know what Rose is playing at Simmonds!" 

"Who you yellin' at, Pete?" Jackie hollered, barging into his office without warning. 

Pete slapped his laptop closed before Jackie could catch a glimpse of the two photographs in the email. 

"You know you're supposed to control your stress! It's bad for your heart. Now stop screaming like a banshee!" 

"Well your yelling isn't helping matters," Pete yelled back. "I'm working, Jacks, you need to go." 

"Fine. Just don't get yourself so worked up! Remember what your cardiologist said." Jackie left, slamming the door behind her. 

Pete opened his laptop back up, and then rubbed his throbbing temples. The first picture was of the Doctor in his stolen server's tuxedo, grinning next to Rose who was balancing a silver a tray full of appetisers. The photo had been captured by one of Pete's own security cameras the night of the Cybermen, right before the attack at the mansion. The second photograph was a picture Jake had copied from one of the many online newspaper articles about the Latimer case. DI Alec Hardy looked tired, scruffy, and forlorn. 

oOo

The first thing Jake Simmonds had done after receiving the flash notice was to do a cursory internet search on this Hardy person. Jake had immediately seen the Hardy's resemblance to Rose's lost love. There had been several hundred digital photos on Rose's "superphone" when she had been stranded in Pete's World. He’d had been the one who figured out how to get the photos off of the phone and her nd Mickey had surprised her with an album full of memories, and numerous framed pictures for her flat and office. 

Jake had been the one who had helped Jackie pack away all of those photos and memories the day after Rose came home from her hospital stay. Jake closed his computer, grabbed his car keys and leather jacket, and ran down the corridors. He had to talk to Pete face-to-face.

oOo

“Hi Jake-love,” Jackie said through the open front door. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to see Pete. Don’t get him worked up any more than he already is.”

“Is he in his office?” Jake asked, walking in to the warm-wood walled foyer of the Tyler’s large home.

“Yeah. Go on back,” Jackie said.

“Mummy! I’m stuck!” a small voice called from upstairs.

“Coming sweetheart,” Jackie called up the stairwell. “Oh what’s he gone and done now?” she rolled her eyes.

oOo

“What are we gonna do about this, Pete? Want me to go and check on her?" Jake asked, leaning forward in the leather side chair.

Pete was silent for a moment. "No, Jake. We’re gonna leave her be. It's her life and she needs to work through it in her own way. You're not to call her. No emailing. Not even a postcard.” 

"What if I were to just buzz down there and poke around without her even know—“

"No! You are _not_ going to Broadchurch to spy on my daughter. Or him. Trust me. Leave her be, Jake." 

"It has been six months! Everyone else has moved on,” Jake hissed. 

"Don't question me, Jake,” Pete warned.

"Fine," Jake said. "But I respectfully disagree, Pete. This has gone on long enough. I don't know how much longer Jackie is gonna keep on believing the shite we're feeding-" 

"You think I don't know that? I have to live with the woman! I hate lying to her about her own daughter! You know I love Rose like she's my own!" Pete pounded his fist on the side table.

"Pete? What do you mean you're lying to me? What about?" Jackie stormed in with a prescription bottle of medication in her hand. "I came back down here to give you your heart medicine, 'cos you are supposed to take it at seven am on the dot. It’s ten-thirty. You forgot this morning. So I wasn't lurking around your door eavesdropping or anything. Now what the hell is going on?" 

“Jake, I think you need to go,” Pete said.

Jake nodded once. He stood, and as he passed Jackie he stopped to kiss her cheek. He closed the door with a quiet thud.

"You've been lying to me about Rose, haven't you? Why? Is something wrong? Has she been hurt again?” Jackie asked, worried. 

"Sit down, Love." Jackie dropped into one of the leather side chairs facing Pete's desk. 

Pete came out from behind his desk, and sat in the matching side chair. But then he stood, and moved the chair so it was facing her. 

"Rose...she's fine, but yeah, I've been lying to you. I hated to do it, but it has been necessary. It's a matter of…” Pete swallowed hard. “…national security. She is deep undercover. I can't tell you where or anything else. But I can tell you she is perfectly safe." 

"Oh..." said Jackie, face somewhat unreadable. "I don't like that you lied to me, but I suppose I get why you had to. But you shoulda come up with better stories than those cock 'n bull things about broken cameras and bike rides across Australia. Can't believe I fell for those." 

"Not Australia. New Zealand." 

"Well good for her," said Jackie, suddenly light-hearted. "Jumping back right in. She outta her funk, then?" 

Pete muttered something and nodded. "Thanks for reminding me about my pills, Jacks. You really gotta go, though. I have work I have to do, and you can’t be in here.“ 

Jackie handed him the small, red bottle, kissed him on the head, and left him alone to his guilty thoughts. 

Pete gritted his teeth, and rubbed his tight neck muscles.

oOo 

Rose sat on the stool behind the checkout counter, head propped in one hand, and eyes closed. The sound of the bells attached to the door startled her out of her catnap. 

"So? How'd it go, then?" Ellie walked up to the counter and leaned on it with a grin. 

Rose hid a wide yawn behind her cupped hand, then smiled.

"Had a nice time." 

"Yeah?" 

"Mmm hmm." Rose smiled to herself at the understatement. "What are you doing up so early? It's only quarter after seven." 

"Just left a crime scene, and I'm bloody tired, but I wanted to stop by and see how things went. Make me a cup of coffee, would ya? Something strong with lotsa chocolate. I still have to…” Ellie yawned. “…go back to the station and write up the report." 

Rose made her way to the espresso bar and prepared two identical cups of Ellie's favourite, and then the friends sat in the pair of comfortable leather chairs up against the wall. 

"I only have about ten minutes before I need to leave. Quick version. Where'd you go? What'd you do? I'll get details later tonight over wine." 

"Uh, I don’t think… Ellie, I won't be able to have wine with you tonight." Rose bit her lip and looked down. Her cheeks were burning. "Alec and me, we're going to do something together this afternoon and I don't know how long I'll be." 

"Seriously? A second date already?" Ellie set her paper cup down and covered her smile with her hand. 

"Well I don't know if you'd call going to Homebase to buy an exhaust fan for his bathroom an actual date," Rose said with a snort. 

"He asked you to do something with him. It counts as a date," said Ellie firmly. "But Homebase? That's not a very impressive second date." 

Rose rolled her eyes. "Like I said, it isn't really a date. I think he just wanted someone to keep him company more than anything." Rose took a sip of her coffee. 

"I'll tell you what he wants, he wants to be with you again. _Alone._ ” 

Rose fought the urge to smile, pinching her lips tightly. 

"So, did he spiff up? I told him not to wear one of those drab suits of his." 

"He looked,” Rose looked out the window. “very handsome." Her face flushed at the memory of opening the door seeing him standing there, flowers in hand. 

Ellie raised a single eyebrow. "So he cleans up well, then? I figured he would." 

Rose changed the subject. "Did you know he has a green MG Midget convertible? He told me he restored it himself." 

"Oh, he finally finished it then. Last time I saw it was six months ago, and it was still up on blocks." 

"We ate at a restaurant called Bluefish. It’s near the Olympic Sailing Academy in Chiswell. Have you been down there? Nice little village.” 

"I think I've heard of that restaurant. But no, never been. I'm sure it was better than any restaurant we have here. Was a nice night, wasn't it? The weather, I mean. Did he put the top down?" 

"Yeah. One benefit of short hair. Don't have to worry about it getting messed up too much." She ruffled her hair, and then re-styled it.

"What did the two of you find to talk about for almost seven hours? Or was something other than talking involved?" Ellie asked with a wicked smile. 

"How'd you know it was seven hours?" asked Rose, with a questioning look. 

"He picked you up at six, and you got home just after one," she said factually. "I heard his car in your drive, and I looked at the clock." 

Rose opened her mouth to speak, only to snap it shut again. She rotated her cup of coffee in her hands, not looking Ellie in the eyes. "We had dinner, then ate ice cream at the beach." She took a sip of coffee, peering at Ellie. 

"That's not talking, that's eating. Let's do the maths together, shall we? It takes about an hour to drive to Chiswell from here, give or take ten minutes for traffic. And then an hour to drive back, probably less due to the late hour. No traffic. Dinner took what, two hours at the most? Then you say you went to the beach? That leaves about three hours unaccounted for. You were at the beach you said, right? Nice romantic spot the beach can be. Stars above. Warm night. Crescent moon was lovely last night.” 

"We had ice cream,” she reiterated quietly. 

"Ice cream melts quickly," Ellie said with a devilish grin. 

"Stop playing detective," Rose requested with a nervous chuckle. 

"You look very happy this morning. Tired, too." Ellie took a sip of her coffee, while watching Rose's reaction carefully. 

"Shut up," Rose said playfully. Her cheeks flushed even darker pink.

"I didn't say anything," Ellie feigned innocence, and continued to stare at Rose. 

Rose frowned under Ellie's scrutiny. This conversation would have been commonplace ten years before. She and Shireen had shared everything, in detail, about their respective romantic encounters. For Rose, there had only been Jimmy and Mickey, but she got an earful from Shireen, and was an eager listener. But so many years had passed, so much had happened - and _not_ happened - since then. “What you’re thinking happened _didn’t,_ Ellie,” she voiced her thoughts. “If that's what you're thinking.”

"Never said _anything_ did. You're the one who went right there." Ellie almost giggled. 

"I didn't go anywhere, Ellie," Rose reiterated under her breath. 

The ladies were quiet for a moment. 

"You really are glowing, though." Ellie looked at Rose over the rim of her cup. 

Rose rolled her eyes, really hoping that this line of questioning would stop. 

"Did you at least kiss?" Ellie teased. 

Rose dropped her head onto one hand and then sputtered a laugh. "I'm not talking about this, Ellie," she said chuckling, before looking back at her friend. 

"You did, didn't you?" Ellie pointed at her. 

"Ellie!" Rose groaned and looked away. 

"I'll get the truth outta ya after I've gotten a few glasses of wine down your throat." Ellie laughed. Then she saw the look of sheer embarrassment on Rose's face. "Oh gods, I'm sorry. Did I push too hard? I did, didn't I? I pushed too hard." Ellie contorted her face. 

Rose looked up from the coffee stain she had been studying on her yellow apron, and snickered. "A bit, yeah. But don't worry about it." 

"You sure?" Ellie asked. 

"Yes, Ellie, I'm sure!" Rose laughed. "Let's just move on,'kay?" 

Ellie sighed and the women were quiet for a moment. "You know, I've known Alec for a while now, and he can be a first class arse. But since you came to town, he hasn't been quite as bad." 

"Wish he'd tell me more about himself, though. He's so closed off." 

"Sorta rich, coming from you," Ellie said wryly, looking away. 

"What do you mean by that?" Rose set her cup down on the small side table between the chairs, and crossed her arms. 

"What do I know about you, Gwen? And I don't mean where you used to work, or where you grew up. Why'd you really move here? What were you leaving behind, Gwen?" 

"Thought you said you had to go," she said quietly. 

"Not like I have to punch into a time clock, or anything." Ellie sighed. "Gwen, I don't think you have a mean bone in your body, but promise me you aren’t stringing Alec along." 

"What? Where'd that come from? I'm not a tease, Ellie," Rose said, both hurt and irritated. 

"Good, because he doesn't deserve that." She paused for a moment. "Hidden under all of that cynicism and testiness lies a very, very good man. And I'll leave it up to him to tell you more about himself. But I will say this. He was hurt badly. Deceived. And the fallout was significant. And he took it because it was the honourable thing to do. And the two of you, you seem to fit, ya know? You match somehow. And for him to open up to you, you're gonna have to do the same." 

Rose looked past Ellie, chewing on her lips before speaking. "When I can, I will. But please don't press me further? Please? Not yet.” 

Ellie squeezed Rose's hand. "If time is what you need...I understand." 

"Thanks." Rose said the word so quietly, it was nearly inaudible. 

Ellie decided to relieve the tension. "I've been watching the two of you flirt and steal looks and dance around each other for half a year now, and I actually feel physically relieved that he finally had the balls to ask you out," Ellie said, not in a joking fashion. "It was almost painful being in the same room with the two of you." 

Rose gave her a look of mild annoyance. "Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me you thought he was interested?" asked Rose. 

"Not my business. I don't do matchmaking. If two people are gonna be together, it's up to them to figure it out, not me." 

Rose snorted. "You? Not a matchmaker? I think I hear a fiddler playing on the roof."

"I said I'm not a matchmaker. I dropped hints to both of you. That's not the same thing." 

"Whatever," Rose said rolling her eyes, then giggling. "You know, I was almost delirious with fever when he asked me out last Sunday," Rose said, with a shake of her head. "Maybe he thought I'd forget?" 

"Glad you didn't forget because Gwen, when I say you are glowing this morning, I mean it. I haven't seen you look this happy since I met you, and I am willing to bet that when Hardy walks in through that door for his morning tea, he won't be his normal grumpy self, either." Ellie studied Rose's face, then grinned at her. 

The bells on door jingled, and Alec sauntered in, his gait looser than usual. He smiled at Rose first, then Ellie. "Good morning. Have you already finished up the paperwork on that house burglary, Baker?" he asked. "Sorry you got called in. Rotten luck, getting pulled outta bed so early." 

"Speak of the devil himself," Ellie said to Rose with a wink, before turning her attention to the Inspector. "Just on my way back to the station. Came in for a cuppa. Was a long night, and not all of us were having such a good time as the two a' you if seems." Ellie gave Rose a knowing look. 

Alec's freckles stood out against the pink that was quickly spreading across his nose and cheeks. 

Rose pinched her lips, and then stood to start Alex's morning Earl Grey. 

"You've been grilling Gwen, haven't you? Well don't." Alec pointed his finger in Ellie's face. 

Ellie laughed. "Oh, don't worry Hardy. She didn't give anything up, not for lack of trying, either. “Well, at least nothing good. I'll see you tomorrow night, Alec." 

"What's tomorrow night?" Alec asked, voice strained. 

"Last month, you promised to play video games with my boys once a month, and tomorrow night is the last Sunday of the month. It's your last chance to keep your promise." 

Alec sucked air through his teeth in irritation. "Right," he said with resignation. "I'll be over...when?" 

"Five. I'll make dinner. Gwen, you're coming too. I'll need someone to talk to while the boys are shooting aliens." 

"Aliens?" she asked alarmed, her voice nearly drowned out by the loud espresso machine. The machine stopped. 

"Yeah, the boys will be shooting aliens on the Wii tomorrow tonight." Ellie spoke to Rose, but grinned at Alec. "You can help me cook dinner." She looked at her watch. "Now, I really need to go. Have fun you two," Ellie said without looking back at them. 

The sound of the bells jangling on the door as she left seemed louder than usual as the air hung heavily between Alec and Rose. Rose cleared her throat and continued preparing his tea. 

Rose was the first to break the silence. "You're in a bit early for your Saturday cuppa."

"I guess I am," he replied with a soft smile and voice.

"So. What do you have planned for your morning?" asked Rose, conversational, but stilted. 

"Uh," he scratched behind his ear, "was going to permanently fix a temporary patch job on a leak in my roof. Nice clear morning for that. Might go for a run if I get that chore done quickly enough. I was wondering if you wanted to drive straight over to my house after you close up the shop at noon? I could make us some lunch, then we could go to Homebase." The hold on his emotions was tenuous, as he tried to keep his mind off of the fact that he may never have met Gwen Lewis, that she could be dead. 

"All right, sure. I’ll have to bring Tiger then. Is that okay? Oh, your tea is ready. I think I remember you saying something about wanting it hot and strong." Rose blushed and looked up at him, directly this time. 

He tasted it. "Perfect. And of course you can bring your handsome beast.” 

"Glad." She smiled. 

Alec slid his money across the counter, not removing his eyes from hers. "Hope you're wearing comfy shoes today," he said with a glint in his eyes. "Homebase is an awfully big place. Lots of walking." 

"You sure you don't want me to wear those uncomfortable red shoes again Detective Inspector? I'd have to kick them off then." She teased him with a tongue-in-teeth grin. 

"Very logical thinking," he replied, straight-faced.

"So you want a pastry with your tea?" Rose grinned. "Something sweet?" 

Alec leaned his side on the counter, trying to be casual. He looked at his fingernails, then turned to her. "Can't. Already had something sweet today." He looked at her lips. "Not all sweets are bad for the heart, though. Could do with another." 

Rose felt her face flush. "You did not just say that." 

"That bad?" Alec was smiling fully now. 

She squeezed her eyes shut and grinned brightly before opening them. "Pretty bad." 

"You seemed to enjoy last night's kisses," he said, voice low. 

Rose rolled her eyes and looked down, still smiling. "I did. And I do." She leaned across the counter and kissed him softly. 

The bells jangled. "You are shitting me!" 

Alec and Rose sprang apart. 

"Chloe, uh, it's your day off. Why're you here?" Rose asked self consciously. 

"Came in for coffee and a scone. Dean is parking his car. What… are… you…” She stared at them. "The two of you? You really are together?" Chloe screeched as she wagged her finger back and forth in the general direction of Gwen and Alec. 

"Chloe," Rose said strongly, having regained her composure. "Some things are personal. And we've been over this before. Now, I'm not canning you, but you've gotta stop insulting Alec. He's my friend." 

"Friend with benefits, more like," she said crossing her arms, sulkily.

"Chloe Latimer," said Alec cooly, moving closer to the young woman. "I will not listen to you insult Gwen. Insult me all you want, but not her."  
"Okay. Maybe if you weren't so busy snogging Gwen, you'da figured out why that bloke almost killed her, knocking her over the head with a spanner!"

"Chloe, I want to see you in back. Now.” Rose turned to the Alec. “Please don't leave, Alec. Just wait here.” She squeezed his arm. 

Chloe followed her boss into the back room. Rose calmly shut the door behind her. She crossed her arms and stared at her employee. 

"Shit. You're gonna fire me," Chloe said. "I'm sorry." She squeezed fat tears out of her eyes. 

"I'm not firing you, Chloe. But this… this rudeness has _got_ to stop! What in the world do you have against Alec? He solved your brother's case!" Rose threw her hands up, frustrated. 

“I. Hate. That. Man! I hate him more than you know!" she bellowed. "And… and… every time I see him, he's a reminder of, of, Danny!” she stuttered. “And, and, I can’t… don’t…” Chloe was now sobbing hard. "His face! It’s all I see! And when that man is in here,” she said, incoherently. 

"Oh Chloe, c'mere." Rose gathered her into her arms and hugged her. 

"It's just, I, I can't look at Hardy without seeing Danny's waxy, white face in that coffin! I know it isn't the Inspector's fault. I do!" Chloe was nearly shouting now. "But I can't let go! I don't think anyone understands how I'm feeling. I'll never get over Danny. Never! And that man is a constant reminder that my brother is gone! Forever!" Chloe sobbed into Rose’s shoulder.

Rose rocked her gently. She thought for a moment before she spoke. "I do understand, sweetheart," she said quietly. "Believe it or not, I do. I know exactly how you are feeling." 

Rose heard the bell on the door jingling, signalling the arrival of a customer. 

"It's Dean," Chloe said, looking up at the video surveillance monitor. 

"You want me to send him back here? Should I call your mum?" Rose asked. 

Chloe shook her head. But then changed her mind and nodded. "Yeah, I wanna see Dean. But not Mum. Not right now. Dean can drive me home when I'm ready," she said, sniffing. She wiped her tears away. 

"I'll bring you two some tea and pastries, 'kay? Just let the tears fall. Don't lock 'em up inside anymore. It will only make things worse." Rose left the storage room, not closing the door all the way. 

“Dean,” Rose said quietly. “Chloe needs you. Just let her talk. Just listen, 'kay?" she said to Dean. 

The man nodded. "Danny?"

Rose nodded. "Yeah."

Dean pushed his hands into his pockets and slowly went to his girlfriend. 

Rose returned to Alec, and surprising herself, she pulled him into a hug, and then sighed. 

He was startled by the gesture, but wrapped his arms around her, and rested his chin on the top of her head as she pressed her cheek into his chest. 

"Did you hear any of that?" she asked him, resting against him. 

"Yeah." He squeezed her more tightly. "All of it." 

"She's so young to have to have gone through something so horrible, losing someone you love that much." She sighed, and stayed in his arms. "I'm going to close the shop early. Can I come home with you? There are things you need to know, Alec, if we're gonna be seeing more of each other." Rose could feel his chest constrict as he swallowed. 

Alec released her slowly. "Homebase can wait." 

"Sure you can live with that steamy shower another whole week?" asked Rose, looking up at him with a watery smile. 

"Only if you—“ Alec stopped himself before he said something too provocative. It was too soon. "Only if you promise to come with me next week." 

She nodded, then began the process of closing up the shop. Rose scribbled a note of apology, and tacked it to the door. She knocked on the door to the back room, and then went in. Chloe and Dean had already left through the back door. She checked the door to the alley, ensuring it was locked. 

"I'm ready. You sure you don’t want me to drop Tiger off at my place?" asked Rose, picking up Tiger's lead and collar before slipping it over his head. "He'll sleep either way...makes no difference to me." 

"Bring him along. He likes me, don't you boy?"

Tiger stood lazily and walked up to Alec, looked at him with his almond-shaped eyes leaned on Alec's leg. "See? Look at that. What a good boy.” Alec scratched behind the dog’s ears. 

"Sorry to break it to you, Inspector, but Tiger does that to anyone who'll put up with him." 

"Oh." 

"Tell you what, though. If he really likes you, he'll get offa that plushy cushion of his, and sit at your feet, even if the floor is hard," she said as she made final preparations to close the shop. Rose engaged the alarm. 

After Rose closed the front door and locked it, Alec turned the knob himself, making double sure Gwen's shop was secure. 

Rose left her little Fiat parked in front of her shop, and prompted Tiger into the rear seat of Alec's larger vehicle. ”Why do you have your work car?" she asked as she settled into the passenger seat. 

"I went into the office this morning, just for ten minutes or so." Alec opened all the windows, and smiled when Tiger immediately shoved his nose out into the fresh air. "I had something I had to check on." 

"Everything all right?" she asked.

"Everything is great." He turned and smiled at her, then grabbed her hand. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story. Additionally, _Mature_ rating applies to this chapter.**

"So what do you think of the neighbours' place? Bit of an eyesore, really. I don't think they are much for DIY." 

She laughed as together, they ambled towards the ruins of the once-grand Broadchurch Estate. "Why wasn't this place seized by the Republic?" 

“I’m guessing it was too out of the way to be turned into a government building. The structure is unstable. Probably far too expensive to renovate. Can't tell from this side, but the whole back is burnt out.” 

"That's a shame. Why do people have to be so destructive?" she mused, remembering what Alec had told her about the history of the place. The stately home had been looted and vandalised after the family abandoned it when the monarchy fell. "Can still tell it was a gorgeous place, though. Can't you just see the carriages rounding the bend? Lords and Ladies piling out, and climbing the steps in their silks and satins? Maybe even Queen Victoria herself walked up those steps." 

"Gwen Lewis! Are you a monarchist?" Alec said, feigning shock. 

"Oh, I dunno. I sorta miss, er, woulda liked having royalty about, I think. Can you imagine how entertaining the redtops would be if we still had royalty? Not that I approve of the paparazzi, mind." 

Alec looked over at her, grateful to hear her laughing and see her smile. He pushed down the ugly memory of her burnt face and arms, her limp body being pulled from her burning vehicle. Wordlessly, he reached for her hand, and she accepted. 

"There's a pavilion overlooking a small lake - more of a pond really. It's thisaway, just through this stand of trees," he said. "Thought we'd head there for our picnic." 

Rose felt a surge of happy nervousness as he led her down an overgrown path through the overgrown garden. She gasped quietly as they emerged into the open. "This looks like something out of a storybook. Are those swans on that lake?" 

"Yeah, about those swans. They're not too friendly. May want to steer clear." 

They stepped up onto the platform of the Grecian style pavilion. Columns supported the rounded verdigris roof. Three rounded benches faced inward. They sat on the one that gave the best view of the small lake. 

Alec set down the wicker picnic hamper and pulled out two wax-paper wrapped sandwiches, two bottles of sparkling mineral water, and two apples. 

￼ Rose hummed after she took her first bite of the sandwich. "This is so good!" 

"It was Helen's recipe." Alec took a bite and chewed quietly. "That's my Ex's name. Helen." 

"Well," she swallowed hard, suddenly nervous. "If you see her," she shook her head, knowing that was mistake. "No, I—” She held her sandwich in her lap. "She was. Is. I mean— she must be a really good cook." 

An awkward silence bloomed, and neither of them said anything while they finished their food. They packed away the remains of their lunch, and then Rose followed Alec's example, tossing her apple core over her shoulder into the woods behind them. The hard stone bench was becoming uncomfortable, so Rose stood, and leaned against a column. Alec's eyes followed her before he stood too, and then held his hand out to her. 

"Let's go back to my place. We can talk there," said Alec. 

Rose nodded, and they backtracked through the woods, but returned straight to his cottage instead of passing by the ruins of the manor. Both kicked off their muddy trainers and pulled off their damp socks at the door. Yhey settled on his sofa. She tucked one leg underneath, and sat sideways facing him. He turned, one arm draped over the back of the sofa, facing her. 

"Back at Zoka, I said I needed to tell you some things about me if we were gonna be seeing each other." She paused. "I sort of jumped to a conclusion there, didn't I? The seeing each other part." She smiled, looking down awkwardly. "I'm sorry. We've only been on one date, and I know that one date doesn't mean anything, not really. I promise, I'm not some clingy, needy person. In fact I'm sorta the opposite. I haven’t—“ Rose shook her head, embarrassed. "You are the first man I've kissed in—“ She blew air through her lips, then closed her eyes and mustered the courage needed to tell him. 

"It's been about nine years since I've been with anyone. Romantically." Rose looked back up at him. "If you want me to go now, I'll understand. If you aren't wanting anything serious, I get that. I promise, I will be your friend, and hope you still consider me your friend too. But after everything I've seen and done, and who I've lost, I can’t. No. I _won’t_ do casual. I'm gonna have to be sure before I ever— Before I ever let myself be with anyone again. Just thought you should know. To be fair." Her voice trailed off. 

Alec ran his hand down his face and looked around the tidy, comfortable room. His eyes settled on a small framed photograph on a high shelf of a built-in bookcase he had constructed himself. A much younger version of Alec was holding hands with a little girl wearing a red rain slicker and yellow rain boots. The absence of honesty and broken vows had destroyed his marriage. Gwen was being transparent. It was time for him to be honest with her, too. 

He had skirted the issue with himself. He liked Gwen. He liked her a lot. No, that was not the truth. What he felt for her was much more than _like_. He was scared to admit just how quickly — and thoroughly — he had fallen in love with Gwen Lewis. How scared he was to admit it to himself, or to her. This— _whatever_ it was they had together — it was moving very quickly. Was that a bad thing? He had known Helen for six months before he had told her those precious three words. Was there an acceptable amount of time he had to wait before he said, _I love you?_

Rose started to stand. "I'm sorry to have made you feel uncomfortable. I think I'll just go now." 

Tiger, who was laying on the area rug at Alec's feet, lifted his head and looked up at Rose sleepily. 

Alec touched her arm, and gently prompted her to sit back down. "No." He looked out the window, and then back at her. "I don't want casual with you. Casual is what we've been doing for months, whether we knew it or not. Gwen, being casual with you, it's not enough for me." 

Rose pressed her lips together, self-conscious, because she felt as if she were about to cry. "You mean, you do want more? With me?" she asked. 

"Aye." Alec moved closer. "And I'm just as nervous as you are." 

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that," she said, ducking her head, then looking back up at him with a shy smile. 

"Anyway, you can't leave. You're sort of at my mercy. I have the car keys," he said with a straight face. 

She laughed. "That a good point." 

"Why are you so nervous?" asked Alec. 

"Why are you?" she volleyed back, deferring, hoping to gain the courage to say what needed to be said. 

"Fair enough." Alec turned so that he was facing the unlit fireplace. He leaned forward, bracing himself, elbows on knees. "My parents were married almost fifty years," he said wistfully. 

"Fifty years. That's brilliant," she whispered. She offered her hand. 

Alec pulled her hand into his lap, but continued to face forward. "Yeah, well, my marriage didn't exactly follow their example. Theirs ended when my mother died. Mine ended because Helen left me for another man." He turned and looked at her briefly. 

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. 

"Yeah, well, there's more." He added his second hand, encompassing hers, holding onto her like a lifeline. "There something I haven't told you yet. Partially because I'm a bit nervous how you'll react, and part because, it just _hurts._ ” He sighed. "Gwen, I have a daughter. She’s fifteen." 

Rose swallowed hard and looked straight ahead. Again, history was repeating itself. But why should she be surprised he had a child? Alec had been married. Children were a normal, everyday aspect of marriage. "What's her name?" she asked, voice calm. 

Alec smiled softly. "Genevieve." 

"That's beautiful." Rose said genuinely. 

"She hates her name," he said with a snicker and a sideways glance. "Sorta hates everything right now. Insists upon being called Ginny." 

"She's fifteen," Rose said, one eyebrow raised. 

"Ginny has good reason to hate me, though. I lied to her." 

"Oh?" she asked, voice shaking slightly. 

He drew in a breath, leaned back against the sofa, and looked up at the ceiling. 

Rose leaned her side against the seat back. 

"Two children, two girls, were murdered in Sandbrook. I was DI on the case, and Helen was DS. We found a child's locket on the suspect. It was the only solid evidence we had. It'd been a helluva hard investigation, Gwen. And we finally had what we needed to nail the bastard. She took possession of it, and said she would take it back to the station. But she didn't go straight there. She met her — lover - blimey, I hate that word," he said shaking his head. "She met him at a hotel. While they were inside, someone broke into her car. The locket was stolen." 

"Oh my gods.” Rose breathed the words, almost prayerfully. "Your case." She leaned forward and faced him.

He nodded, eyes closed. "The case was dead. We had nothing else. _Nothing_.” He breathed in and out through his nose. "I lied, Gwen. I said I was the one at the hotel, that I was the one having the affair, that the locket had been in my possession when it was stolen." 

Rose drew in a breath of surprise. 

"I couldn't let Genevieve know what her mother had done, Gwen. Ginny _knew_ those girls. They were her friends. I couldn't have her believing her mother had done this _thing,_ and had destroyed our family in the process." 

"But Alec — your wife — why didn't she... she never told the truth?" Rose's mouth hung open. 

"No, she did not," he said, punctuating each word. "The case remains unsolved. I was crucified in the papers, lost the respect of my colleagues, lost my wife, and my daughter. I was truly blindsided by the affair. I was so wrapped up in my job that I hadn't noticed her drifting away." 

"That's not an excuse. My stepdad works like a slave, round the clock sometimes, but he and Mum-" 

"Gwen, it's over. Don't try and fix it." 

"Sorry.” She looked down. 

He smiled softly. "Don't be. I finally told the truth at the tail end of the Latimer case. I gave Ollie — he’s a reported for The Echo, and Ellie's nephew — his first big scoop. I believe the headline was, ‘Worst Cop in Britain Vindicated.’” 

Rose furrowed her brows at his sarcasm.

"For being a news agent, you don't have much interest in the news now, do you?" 

"No. I don't. Not really," she replied. "I didn't even know about Danny's death until shortly after I moved here." 

"How is that even possible?" Alec asked, confused. "It was all over the news. Everywhere." 

"Please, Alec, finish. That's part of my story, and I'll tell you why when you are done with yours, ‘kay?" 

He nodded. "Ginny and are at least on speaking terms now, but she has yet to agree to a visit. I haven't forced the issue." 

"She'll come ‘round. You're her dad. Take that from someone who lost hers before she had a chance to know him." Rose let her head drop onto his shoulder. 

"You're an optimist," he said.

 _Rose_ had been an optimist, but whose optimism was speaking? Was that Gwen's outlook? Or was it Rose’s? Had she _truly_ started to heal emotionally? She was happier than she had been in years. "Yeah, I suppose I am." Rose shrugged, realising it was her real self speaking. "May I see a picture of Genevieve?" she asked, changing the subject. 

Alec released her hand, and went to the bookshelf, retrieving the picture. He handed her the framed photo, and went into his bedroom to get the small album he kept in a drawer in his bedside table. 

The first thing that Rose noticed was the young, unlined face of Alec Hardy. He reminded her so much of the man who had emerged from golden fire in front of her very eyes. Not only did he look young, but he had a youthful gleam in his eyes. 

"First day of school. She was six. It wasn't raining. In fact, there wasn't a single cloud, but she insisted on wearing her new rain slicker and boots." Alec sat back down, then handed her the photo album. 

Rose hesitated for a moment before flipping open the black leather cover. The first picture was of a newborn in a clear hospital bassinet. The child was wailing, her face bright red. 

"She came out screaming, and hardly stopped for a year." His voice was soft and affectionate. 

Rose smiled as she flipped through the pages. Ribbons and ponytails disappeared as the girl grew steadily older on each page. The final picture showed her sitting for a school photograph in front of a mottled blue backdrop, forcing a smile. 

"Just got that one in the mail a few weeks ago. She wrote me a note apologising for the look on her face. She'd done poorly on a history exam that morning." 

"Thanks for showing me this. I can see you in her, she has your eyes and mouth, I'd say. She's very pretty." 

"Glad she doesn't have my nose and wonky ear," he said, chuckling. 

Rose wanted to tell him that she rather liked those features, but before she had a chance, he continued. 

"Ellie knows everything I've told you. She never said anything to you?" 

Rose shook her head. "The only thing she said was that you had gone through a very nasty divorce. That you’d been hurt badly. And this morning told me, no, she warned me.” She paused. "She warned me to not lead you on. She's a good friend, to both me and to you, Alec." 

"You'd never be a tease." 

"No, I wouldn't. I'm not. Well not _now_.” She grinned. "Although, when I was sixteen, I was a terrible tease." She rolled her eyes. "I'm still a flirt, I can't help myself. But a tease? No." Rose grinned, and her tongue peeked through her teeth. 

Alec looked at her mouth, at that hint of her pink tongue, and made a quiet growling sound from deep in his throat. He cupped the back of her head, and kissed her briefly, but firmly. He pulled back with a wolfish grin. "That tongue of yours, woman. I am very glad you aren't a tease." 

Rose looked at him through glazed eyes. "You're a really good kisser," she whispered. He tipped his chin upward, proudly. 

"And I think I need to say my part before before we… I…” She breathed deeply. "Before we go any further, and I'm not saying anything's happening today. Just before — if, that is, if — we — ever —“ 

"If?" he asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

She looked him in the eyes, and shook her head. "When." 

He half smiled and she nodded. "Last night, I told you 'bout my… friend. His name was James." Rose had thought about this at length. Just like the inevitability of telling him about her accident, she knew she would have to explain Him. James McCrimmon had been the name he had used when he lied to Queen Victoria, so that is the name she had settled on. "Last night, I told you how we met when I was nineteen. Now I need to tell about losing him, and why it has taken me so long to get over him." 

"You don't need to do this, Gwen. I can see it as plain as day. It still hurts." 

"No. I mean, yes." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "It will always hurt I think, but it doesn't hurt in the same stabbing way that it did before. You'll always remember how you loved your wife back in the beginning, yeah?" she asked. 

"Hard to recall what that felt like, to be honest," Alec said, somewhat bitterly. 

Gwen gave him a kind look before continuing. "So, James and me, we became very close. At the time I met him, I was officially seeing someone. His name was Mickey." A surge of guilt overwhelmed her. Not only had she had left Mickey for the Doctor, but she also felt responsible for his death. 

"You feel guilty about that." It was not a question. 

She composed herself. "It had been over between us for a long time. Neither of us wanted to let go, not officially. So we plodded along, comfortable with each other. We'd been mates since we were kids. But Mickey and me, we wanted different things. So, when James came along, I just, well, left." She raised one shoulder.

"You walked away from Mickey? Without telling him why?" he asked, clearly surprised. 

"No. I told him exactly why I was leaving. I was _horrible_ to him." Rose looked down and fiddled with her fingers. "There were hard feelings of course. I was immature. I never apologised to him, not until years later. He told me he had forgiven me a long time before, but—“ She shook off the guilt and continued. "Anyway, James and I travelled. At first, I did it because it was exciting seeing the world, but then my reason for staying with James changed. We just, well, understood each other. And falling in love happened so naturally that we never acknowledged it. We just both knew." Rose sighed. "But neither of us ever did anything about it. We held hands all the time, and used any excuse for a hug. I know that sounds daft, but it's the truth. So you can see I have a history of not telling people how I feel. So that's why I'm so nervous about us," she whispered. 

"You were together with James how long? Without ever doing _anything_?” he asked with incredulity. 

She cleared her throat. In reality, Rose was not quite sure how many linear Earth years she had spent with the Doctor. Reconciling her true age with the calendars of two universes had proven confusing at best. She gave the best answer that she could, an educated guess which combined her own recollection, the Torchwood physicians' estimate of her age, and her official Pete's World age. "About four years." 

Alec looked at her through the eyes of a detective. "Four years? That's a long time to not tell someone you love them, let alone travel with them and not, well, _do_ anything about it." 

_You're telling me,_ Rose thought to herself. "You have no reason to believe me, it makes no sense, but it's the truth." She chuckled to herself. 

"It is very hard to believe. Not once? You didn't give in? Not even once? Not even a drunken tumble?" Alec was almost smiling now. 

Rose laughed as she shook her head. "A psychiatrist woulda had a field day with the two of us." They sat quietly for a moment.

"You said you did tell him in the end, and he tried to tell you?"

She nodded. "Too little, too late," she said sadly. 

Alec examined her face. “You said he died.” 

It had certainly felt like the Doctor had died, and in a way, he had. Death might have been better than knowing he was there on the other side, loving her, unable to come back for her. Even still, Rose couldn't bring herself to verbalise the lie again. She nodded, though it was more of a tremble, than a gesture. 

"That was a little over three years ago. I threw myself into work, and when I say that, I literally mean it. I think most days I worked sixteen hours. I came in on weekends. I rarely saw my family. I was a hermit. I had good friends. Very good friends, but they were all from work. Even Mickey." She smiled softly. "If I did anything socially, it was with them, and usually it meant just grabbing a pint after work." Rose laughed. 

"What's funny?"

"I got asked out. A lot, actually."

"Of course you did," he said, admiring her. 

"Became a running joke. 'Who's gonna ask out the Ice Queen today?'" she said in a deep voice. "This is embarrassing, but sorta funny, too." Rose shook her head and laughed, looking away. "There was this — thing going on at work. After I left, I was told about it. All the blokes who asked me out put money into a pot before they tried. The idea was, whoever I said yes to would get the money in the pot." This was true. 

"That's bloody awful," said Alec, judgmentally. He paused. "How much did it get up to?" he asked, curious. 

"Ummm," she looked up and thought about it. "I think it was around two hundred pound?" 

"Not nearly enough. I'd have put in much more." His darkening eyes searched hers. 

"You woulda won, too." Rose cupped his face and stroked the stubble on his cheek with her thumb. "I've done a lot of growing up since James, but I also learned how to shut people out. And I don't want to do that to you." 

"Then don't." Alec's voice was low and rumbling. Commanding. 

Rose complied, turning to face him on the sofa. She ran her fingers through his fringe, before pushing it off of his face. She stroked his forehead, then touched his nose, ran her fingertips over the crinkles around the eyes, and lastly, placed her fingers on his lips. 

”Not gonna waste time." Rose shook her head. "Not this time. I like you a lot, Alec, and I want more with you. I want to be with you. I think about you all the time. I have dreams about you, and I — oh sod it." 

She wrapped her arms around Alec's neck and pulled him into a heated kiss. Together, they stretched out on the sofa, a tangle of legs and arms, not a breath of space between them. 

oOo 

There was more than twenty-five grand in cash somewhere in that shop. It was _his_ money, stolen from him by that wanker Donny Jones. That money came from _his_ buyers. _His_ users. Jones had tried to steal his business up in Liverpool. What a stupid idiot. Rowe took a gulp of his whisky, then smirked as he remembered how that arse Donny had begged for his life right before he had plunged his knife right between his shoulder blades. 

His wuss of a football playing brother had cocked things up too, getting kicked in the chest by that woman. Then there were the two idiots he sent in to search the place. They had panicked and had run away like little girls before their job was done. 

Rowe looked up from his glass at the clock behind the bar. Eleven-fifty. It was time to walk the short distance to Gwen Lewis' shop. He would hang around until he was the last customer, and then force her to lock up. He’d search the place himself. He pulled the hood of his grey hoodie over his bald head, slapped a fiver onto the bar, and hunched over as he walked out of the dark, smoky pub. He hurried the quarter mile to the shop. Without lifting his eyes, he pulled on the door, but it was locked. 

He swore to himself, and cupped his hands to peek inside. The light in the back storage room was on, and the car that the Lewis woman owned was still parked out front. He cursed a second time. He was confident in his abilities and his powers of _persuasion_ , if it came to that. Not only was he willing do what he had to do to find that money, he was looking forward to it. He'd seen Gwen Lewis, and it would be fun getting her to talk. And if she gave up the what he was looking for quickly, he'd break her anyway. 

Marcus was an impulsive man, easily angered and always a hair trigger from exploding, and right now, he was feeling that familiar burning sensation deep in his gut, the feeling he always got before he had fun. He pulled out his pocketknife, walked over to Gwen’s car, and then dragged along the door, leaving his mark. Adrenaline tingled his fingers and toes as he began to build up to the boiling point. He ducked into a gap between the buildings, and made his way into the alley behind the row of shops. 

He stood at the back door, pulled out his tools, and began working on the lock until it clicked. He twisted the doorknob, and barged in. 

"Tell me where my money is, you bitch!"

Deafening sirens blared, and every light in the shop came on. 

oOo 

They were like two teenagers in the back seat of a car, not thinking, driven solely by what felt fantastic, not worried about after, only living for now. They nipped, panted, groped and gasped. Both had been starved of physical and emotional intimacy for years, and they were doing their very best to make up for it all at once. Their movements were both intentional and unintentional, moving to the rhythm to their long withheld desires. Both had the capacity to be skilled lovers, but neither cared about finesse. They were not out to impress each other. They just _wanted_ each other. 

For one brief moment, sensibility overrode Alec's surging need, and he willed his hands to pause just under the hem of her shirt, seeking wordless consent to continue. 

"Please,” she whispered into his mouth. 

That one word was enough, and the feel of her skin under his hands, skin he had never seen, briefly snapped him out of his frenzy. He slowed his movements to savour the moment, breathing in and out slowly, letting his hands rest in the wells of her waist, as his thumbs stroked her belly. But soon, need overrode, and his tender touching was not enough for either of them. 

She urged him on, begged him for more.

Alec answered her pleas with words of passion, lust, and affection and she responded to his fantasies spoken into her mouth, and against her neck. Tender words were followed by soft, pliant kisses, but when he spoke his more carnal desires, his lips became hungry, devouring her. 

Her touches followed suit, both tender and greedy, though she had not dared venture under his trousers. Not yet. She was trying to maintain a clear head even though her body was screaming _I want you, and I want you now._ Body was quickly gaining over mind, though. She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and lost herself to the sensation of his fingertips slipping under her cotton bra. 

He growled her name, as she pushed her hands under the waistband of both his trousers and pants, and grabbed his hips, pulling him into her. Her actions mirrored his. When he traced the soft underside of her breast with a fingertip, she traced the roundness if his buttocks. If he squeezed, then so would she. She matched his pinches and caresses and soon, movements were frantic. 

"Arch up," she asked, voice breaking, as she pulled her hands out to fumble with the button and zip of his jeans. 

"Not here.” He stood, and extended his hand. The minute her feet hit the floor, he pulled her against himself, hard. The kiss was intense, but brief. 

"Bedroom," he said as he pulled her along, until they collapsed onto his bed. 

Both of them shed their shirts, and tossed them aside. Her simple pink, cotton bra was not meant to entice, but neither cared. Getting the blasted thing off was the only thing either of them wanted. She turned onto her side, and reached behind her back. She fumbled with the clasp, inwardly cursing her shaking fingers. Impatient, he pushed her hands out of way. Quickly, it was off. One swift nudge and she was her on her back looking up at him, and he, hovering over her. His eyes swept over her before he dropped his mouth to her chest. 

His cordless house phone rang once, and the old-fashioned answer phone intercepted the call. 

"Alec, where the hell are you! Will you pick up you effing git! I've been bloody texting and calling you for nearly half an hour. The alarm on Gwen's shop was trigg-" 

The combination of Ellie's urgent, angry voice and Gwen's name abruptly halted what would have been inevitable. He tore himself away from her, and lunged for the phone on the bedside table. "Talk, Baker." 

Rose blinked a few times at the abrupt loss of Alec's touch before she caught her breath. She gathered her shed clothing, and pulled the items on with shaking hands. She looked over at Alec. He was standing, still shirtless, his back to her. One hand was on his slim hip, and his stance was rigid and tense as he listened to his partner give the facts. 

"Do we have him in custody?" Alec looked over his shoulder at Rose, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed watching him with wide, brown eyes. He cursed Ellie's answer, and in two 

Long strides, Alec had her in his arms. "She's with me, Ellie. She's safe. That bastard broke into her shop thinking she was there, and that was a mistake." He kissed the top of Rose's head. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story. Mild sensuality in this chapter.**

"Alec?" asked Rose, looking up at his taut face. 

He pulled her tighter into his side, and again, kissed her head. "We'll be there in fifteen minutes, Ellie." Alec ended the call, and set the telephone in its recharge cradle. 

He released Rose from his embrace and put his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her. "The burglar alarm at your shop was set off just after noon." 

Rose nodded. "I got that much from your conversation with Ellie." 

"It was Marcus Rowe. He's bolted, but we've got an active BOTL - that means be on the lookout - within the entire county." 

Rose knew what the acronym meant but she played along, nodding at his explanation. 

"You were quick to get dressed," said Alec, glancing sideways. 

"Yeah, well -- sorta got knocked back to reality, didn't we?" Rose said. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. 

"Uh. I need to change, then we'll head over to your shop and you can pull up the surveillance camera footage." 

"Glad I wasn't in the shop. Or Chloe wasn't in there alone." Rose chewed her lip as she watched Alec gather his clothing. 

"Now that we know, without a doubt, that he is in Broadchurch, I do not want you alone. You're going to stay here with me, and I'm going to-" 

"Alec," she interrupted, touching his arm gently. "Are we going to talk about what almost happened? We almost, well, you know." Rose's face flushed pink. But then a slow smile replaced a slightly-panicked look.

He draped a fresh, white dress shirt over the back of a nearby chair, then tipped her chin up. He kissed her softly on the lips. "And it would have been fantastic." 

"Yeah, I know." Rose smiled up at him. "But maybe a bit -- hasty?" 

He cleared his throat. "Probably." Alec gave her the hint of a cheeky smile. "But it still would have been fantastic." 

She laughed, and then fingered the hair on his chest, finding the one inch scar where his pacemaker had been inserted. It was barely visible. He looked down at her fingers, then covered them with his hand, holding them in place for a moment. 

"Were you serious about me coming to stay here?" she asked. 

"As serious as a heart attack." 

"That's not funny," Rose said with a small shake of her head, spreading her hand over his heart. 

"You're right, it isn't. And I'm very glad I had the surgery." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. 

"So am I." 

Rose sat down on the end of the bed and watched him dress. He pulled on a vest, and then his dress shirt. A plain blue tie was next, followed by his plain blue suit coat, clean socks, and dress shoes. 

"Time to go." He held his hand out to her, and they left the cottage. 

oOo 

One police vehicle and Ellie's car were in front of Zoka, and a few uniformed officers were milling around inside. 

"You're wearing jeans? Why are you wearing jeans?" Ellie asked irritably as she approached Alec. "I didn't even knew you _owned_ jeans." 

"Day off, Ellie. And I'm wearing a tie," he said, waving the fabric, not looking at her as they strode into the shop. 

"Hi Gwen," Ellie greeted. "Sorry to interrupt your not-date but _really_ a date. I thought you two were going to be up at Homebase in Poole? I only called his house 'coz he wasn't answering his mobile." 

"Had a change of plans," Alec said plainly. "I'm going to take a look in the back room, see what's what." 

Ellie turned to Rose. "Would you pull up the video footage, starting right before noon?" 

Rose nodded, and logged into her computer. "Alec told me it was Rowe who broke in. How do you know it was him if you haven't seen my surveillance footage?" asked Rose as she typed. 

"There's a witness. She heard the alarm going off while stopped. She saw a bloke running out of the alley -- pellmell -- so she snapped a few photos with the camera on her mobile, and then called 999." 

"So he broke in through the back door, same door as before," Alec said, returning to the front of the store. 

"Didn't I tell you there needs to be CCTV in that alley?" Ellie chided Alec, hands on hips. "I told you that right after the first break in." She turned to Rose. "And Gwen, you really need a better lock on both of those doors. Both front and back." 

"Not my fault Home Office is a bureaucratic nightmare," Alec replied, irritated. "The Chief signed the request for the camera. Was submitted the next day. Don't complain to me, Baker." 

"I'm not blaming you, you plonker," Ellie said. "You are so tetchy." 

While Hardy and Baker continued to argue about paperwork and bureaucrats, Rose thought of the technology that was available to Torchwood. There was that harmless, but immobilising shock thing that would have zapped Rowe the minute he touched the doorknob; there were man traps; lasers that would map his body and create a three dimensional image; phasers from off-world; stun guns developed by Torchwood; mini robots that could have embedded themselves in his shoes and tracked his movements; automatically deploying nets that would trap him like an animal until the police arrived. 

She didn't have to be this man's victim. One call would end this drama, probably before five PM. But she wasn't Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. She was Gwen Lewis, and Gwen Lewis knew nothing about things like that. 

"Gwen, you still with us?" Ellie asked, waving a hand in front of Rose's glazed eyes. 

"Uh, I'll take care of those right away," Rose said, her voice cracking slightly as she shook off her deep thoughts. "The locks, I mean." 

Ellie, misunderstanding the timbre of her voice, put her arm around Rose's shoulders. "Gwen, it's going to be okay. I promise. We _will_ get this man, and in the meantime, we'll protect you and your shop. Understand?" 

"Yeah." Rose smiled. "Thanks. For everything. Here's the video." 

"Hardy," hollered Ellie, "video is up." 

"I'm standing ten feet away, Baker, no need to shout," he said over his shoulder. He nodded at the officers with whom he was conferring. 

Rose moved off of her stool to make room for him behind the counter.

"Three files," Rose indicated. "Alley camera number one, storage one, and storage two." 

He played the video from the alley first. "He defeated that lock ridiculously quick. Gwen, you need better hardware-" 

"I know. I know. Ellie already lectured me," Rose said over his shoulder, her hands on her hips. 

"Just reiterating what Ellie said."

"Ten seconds," Ellie mused shaking her head. "He jimmied it in _ten_ seconds."

Rose frowned. Her short fingernails dug into the palms of her clenched fists. _Retina scanners and titanium doors without knobs. Infrared handprint and bone pattern keys…_

"Which camera faces the door?" Alec asked Rose. 

She startled, shaking off the continued thoughts of Torchwood technology. "Two. It's camera two."

Alec clicked on the file containing that footage. "He's saying something." 

"He's _yelling_ something," Ellie corrected.

 _"Tell me where my money is, you bitch,"_ Rose quoted calmly.

Alec turned and looked over his shoulder, one eye raised. 

"I can read lips." Rose shrugged. "Mum and I used to mouth entire conversations while she was on the phone with her great aunt. She had a gob." 

Ellie snorted a laugh, and even Alec cracked a smile. 

"Well, I don't think we need to see anything more here. Gwen, I'll call a reputable locksmith, and get both of your doors straightened out. Ellie, call SOCO to send someone over to dust for prints, just to cover all the bases. I'm going to follow Gwen home, and make sure her house is secure." 

"Why would you think her home isn't safe?" Ellie asked.

"You didn't see what was done to Gwen's car, did you?" asked Alec, raising an eyebrow. 

"What did he do to my car?" Rose's voice bordered on screeching. "I love my car!" 

"Wilson over there just downloaded the CCTV footage. Rowe tried the front door, found it locked, then looked in the shop. He walked away, pulled out a knife that he dragged down one entire side. He knows your car." Alec paused. "He was sending you a message, Gwen. That, coupled with his demand that you tell him where his money is when he broke into the shop-- Marcus Rose made this _personal_ , and that changes _everything_." 

"He's right, Gwen. Go with him," said Ellie, immediately concerned. "But Alec, before the two of you go, I need talk to Gwen for a mo." Ellie raised her eyebrows at Alec.

"Right. I'll just go— do— something." Alec scratched his neck, winced, and then walked away. 

"Gwen, what is that red mark on your neck?" Ellie whispered. 

Rose flushed, her cheeks almost as red as the mark just below her right ear. "Dunno. Bug bite?" She scratched it. "We did take a walk through the woods. Went out to the little lake on the old Broadchurch Estate. Had a picnic." 

"And what happened to Homebase?" Ellie asked, half smiling. "Alec only said your plans had changed. Why'd they change? What did you do instead?" 

Rose paused and chewed on her lip for a moment. "We decided we needed to have a serious talk, Ellie. I told him some things he needed to know about me. And he told me about Genevieve. And his ex-wife. And, well, Sandbrook." 

Ellie's face immediately lightened. She wrapped her arms around Rose, and hugged her hard. "I'm so glad," whispered Ellie. 

Rose froze, but then returned the hug, smiling.

"I knew the two of you were good for each other." Ellie said, releasing her friend.

Rose smiled and spoke softly. "I think you'll be seeing us together. A lot."

"Official then?" Ellie asked carefully.

"Official for us-- but I don't know about telling everyone else. You of course, but-"

"Oh bloody hell, it's no one else's business Gwen. But I'm pretty sure anyone who knows the both of you two already knew!"

Rose smiled at her. 

"Hardy, you can come back now," Ellie announced. 

Alec flicked his wrist, and his black notebook thunked shut. He shoved it in the inside pocket of his suit coat. "You ready, Gwen?" he asked, almost frowning. 

"You can stop pretending, Alec.” Ellie smirked. "Gwen told me about the two of you." 

Alec's eyebrows shot up. 

"Like I couldn't tell. I am a detective, you idiot.” She squinted. "The two of you have matching love bites." 

"Baker!" 

oOo 

Jake's mobile buzzed on his hip. He unlocked it and saw the text alert notifying him that the search terms _Gwen Lewis, Broadchurch,_ and _Zoka,_ had been entered into a law enforcement database - the Broadchurch police database, to be exact. He called Pete. 

oOo 

Rose looked at her luggage sitting by the front door of her home. She went through a mental check list. "Oh! Tiger's food and his bed." 

"You travel light," Alec said, looking at the small cluster of bags. 

"When I was traveling, I learned pretty quickly just how little I really needed." She was also referring to dimension hopping. A few nutrition bars, a flask of water, some gold ingots, and the clothing on her back. Those were the only things she had with her when the cannon fired her through the breach. "You're sure you think this is necessary?" she asked for the third or fourth time. 

He lowered his eyebrows and nodded once. 

"Guess I've been told," she said a bit sarcastically. 

"Until Rowe is in custody, yes, it’s necessary. My masters dissertation was about the escalation of violent behaviour. 

“In his mind, Rowe has made an overt decision to hold _you_ personally responsible for _his_ loss. And you, Gwen Lewis, now represent the money that he believes he deserves. What he did to your car Gwen — he was marking you as his prey. That was not a warning, that was a _threat._ He catches you, you’ll suffer.” 

"That doesn't sound promising," said Rose, before she barked a nervous laugh. "You sure know how to charm a girl." 

"You are taking this seriously, aren't you?" Alec had a warning tone in his voice. 

"Yes. Completely. Believe me, I know there are plenty of unhinged people in this world. Worked for a security firm, you know. I get sarcastic and laugh when I'm nervous." 

"You told me you were a secretary, but you never did say where you worked?" he asked, as he carried Tiger's bed down the front porch stairs. 

Rose panicked. She could not remember the name if the firm that Pete had created around her. She ran through the alphabet, but even still, drew a blank. She spoke before she could think clearly. "Torchwood Ltd." Her stomach dropped. 

"Why does that sound familiar?" he asked over his shoulder. "Torchwood, Torchwood,” he repeated to himself quietly. 

Even though Torchwood was a clandestine organisation, Alec had been in law enforcement for years. It was possible that he had heard the name at some point, even if only as a rumour, or as a part of one of the many post-Cybus Industries conspiracy theories. 

"Um, there's an old manor house up in Scotland by the same name. The founder was related to the family who owned the house way back when. We had a very limited clientele. It's unlikely you've heard of it." Rose was forcing her hands to be still. "Oh! My laptop. It's in my bedroom." She hurried away. 

Rose’s fingers quivered as she logged on and wrote a brief email to Pete explaining the necessity of changing her work records to reflect her slip up. She closed her laptop, slipped it into the red neoprene protective sleeve, and dropped it into a satchel containing a book and a magazine. She slung her final bag over her shoulder and joined Alec outside. Rose locked the door. 

Alec tried the doorknob, making sure it was secure, even though Rose had done the same thing a moment before. 

Rose sighed and rubbed her temples, feeling the beginnings of a dull headache. All of the lying and telling half truths was taking its toll. 

Gwen Lewis. James McCrimmon. The true nature of what travelling with _Him_ had really meant. So when she slipped up and felt the name Torchwood roll off of her tongue, she realised that it had given her the briefest moment of relief to speak a kernel of truth. 

Further, while she felt a thrill each time Alec was protective - he was like her first Doctor in so many ways - she was a strong, capable woman. She could probably topple Marcus Rowe in a scuffle, and if she had her team behind her, there was no question who would walk away from the fight. 

"I'll follow you," she said. 

"No. I want you to leave your car here. We'll send someone for it later," Alec commanded.

"I really want my car," she muttered. "I don't like feeling trapped." 

She felt a hint of irritation growing in the back of her mind, but then Alec placed his hand on the small of her back as they approached his vehicle, and her irritation melted.

oOo 

"Twice! Her shop has now been broken into twice!" Jake shouted, throwing his arms wide open. "And has she even bothered to tell you either time? Even when she was hit over the head? She could have been seriously injured, Pete! She could have _died_ had the blow been stronger! And now you get this email from her telling you that you have to change all of her work records to say Torchwood? Because she _slipped up?_ ” Jake air quoted. 

Pete ran both of his hands down his tired, ashen face. "Jake," he said quietly, "I'm just as frustrated as you are. Rose is not acting rationally. This façade should have ended long ago, but I made her a promise. I told her that I would do whatever I could to help her forget her old life. And from what I can tell, she is finally living again. 

“She’s finally making a go of her shop, she has friends, and something tells me that DI Hardy is more than just a friend. The only other person she has mentioned by name is her neighbour, Ellie Baker.”

"So what? She is friends with two coppers. And everything is suddenly rainbows and lollies?” 

"What I am saying, _Jake_ ,” Pete warned, "is that Rose is surrounded by people who care about her and have the ability to protect her. She has even described her shop as the second break-room to the Broadchurch PD." 

Jake shrugged. "Why don't I just go to Broadchurch tonight, install a few _enhancements_ to the security system at her shop? In and out. No one would know. It wouldn't be taking away any of her independence or breaking any of your promises to her." 

Pete looked at Jake. "I'll _think_ about it." Pete pointed at his second in command. "But don't you dare do anything without my consent. Got it Simmonds?" 

"Understood." Jake nodded sharply. "New topic. I did some digging into the background of this Alec Hardy Apparently, he took the fall for his wife - who was a DS at the time." Jake clicked on a link on his laptop, and a news article populated the screen. He turned it around so Pete could read it. 

Pete looked at Jake, confused. "That was some sacrifice he made, being so protective of his daughter." 

"Yeah." Jake nodded.  
"Perhaps a bit foolish. But sometimes, fathers will do foolish things for the sake of their children." 

"I get it, boss," said Jake with a chuckle as he shook his head.

"Good. You understand me perfectly, then." Pete leaned back in his leather chair.

“Yeah, I get it. I suppose if I were ever a dad-"

Pete raised a single eyebrow.

"We could adopt. Someday." Jake smiled wryly. "I imagine I would be insanely protective too.” 

"You bet your skinny arse, you would." Pete thought for a moment. “Easy enough to get a copy of the Sandbrook PD's case file. Do it. Maybe there's something we can do to help them catch the killer. The families of those girls deserve better than what they got. And if DI Hardy is anything like I think he is from the little I’ve learned - and being a dad myself - he needs closure." 

"Will do. Anything else?" asked Jake, rising to leave.

“No. Go home. It's Saturday night. Have a pint and forget about Torchwood for a few hours." 

"You need to do the same, Pete. Excuse me for saying so, but you look rough. You coming down with something?" 

"Jacks was cheesed off that I even came into the office this afternoon. I'm not feeling the best, to be honest. Gimme a mo. I'm gonna go home. I'll walk out with you." 

Pete secured his office, and then the two men made their way to the lift.

Jake pressed the car park level button. 

"Jake — I’m — not — Pete clutched his left arm, gasped, and collapsed against the back wall of the lift. 

"Pete!" Jake pressed the emergency recall button, automatically sending the elevator to the lobby. The moment the doors slid open, he helped Pete out, and down onto the cold marble floor of the lobby of Number One Canary Wharf. "Call 999! Mr. Tyler is having a heart attack!" Jake yelled at the security guard. Jake went to his knees. He readied himself to begin CPR.

oOo 

The heart monitor beeped quietly in the half-lit room. Jackie was sitting in the guest chair as Jake looked out the window at the rain, arms crossed. He turned around and dropped onto a rolling stool.

"It was a minor heart attack, Jackie. A wake up call. He's going to be fine. It was only a partial blockage. The angioplasty tomorrow will take care of it. He'll be home in a few days." Jake put his arm around Jackie’s shoulders.

"And then it'll happen again! The stress of this job. I’m afraid it's gonna kill him, Jake," Jackie said quiet and fearful. 

"His cardiologist is very positive, Jackie. He said he's gonna be fine. His medication will be changed, and his diet is gonna be strict, and he's gonna moan about that, but he is physically strong. And yes, this job is stressful, but you just try and tell him to give it up. It ain't gonna happen." 

Jackie sighed in resignation. "I know about,” she whispered, "my daughter. Going undercover, some super secret mission, so Pete said." Her voice returned to its prior quiet tone. "Any way you can get word to her? You know — through a secret radio transmission? Use code or something? She'd wanna know about Pete." 

Jake bit back a smile. "I'll make sure she is notified, Jackie."

"No Jake, too risky." Pete's gravelly voice startled both Jake and Jackie. 

"Oh Pete, love," Jackie moved quickly to her husband's side and squeezed his upper arm, then kissed his forehead. "I'm so relieved you're all right." 

"Guess I sneaked one too many slices of sausage pizza," he joked quietly. 

"Oh, you! Don't ever do that to me again!" Jackie said, sniffing back a tear. "I knew this was coming!" 

"You're psychic now?" asked Pete hoarsely. "Pete,” Jackie drawled his name. 

"Don't worry Jacks," he chuckled. "I don't particularly fancy the feeling of an elephant stomping on my chest again." He closed his eyes. "What time is it?" 

"Nearing twenty-two hundred,” answered Jake. 

"Everything okay at work?" 

"Don't worry about work. It's in very good hands," said Jake, winking. 

"Always had a suspicion you've been out for my job. Never thought you'd orchestrate a heart attack to take me out, though." Pete closed his eyes. 

"You've found me out, boss. I confess. I've been the one ordering all of those tempting pizzas from Alonzo's." 

The men smiled, but Jackie scowled, knowing her husband's weakness for the fat, salt, and cholesterol-laden, bubbling cheese, and spicy sausage pies. 

"I'll leave you to get some rest, Pete." Jake hugged Jackie goodbye. 

"I don't care what Pete says, you let my Rose know. Promise me, Jake," Jackie whispered into his ear. 

"Yeah," answered Jake. "I promise, Jackie."

oOo 

Alec stared into the crackling flames and thought about the twists and turns his life had taken since he moved to Broadchurch. His professional name had been cleared; he had a best friend in Ellie; he had bought a ramshackle cottage and was making it a home; and now there was Gwen.

The woman next to him sighed, content and drowsy. Her head rested heavily on his shoulder. Alec rested his cheek in her hair and breathed in the subtle scent of her perfume. He knew she was not sleeping deeply, just taking a kip. It had been a difficult day, but it had certainly had its high points. 

An unusually cold storm had blown in an hour before, and as often happened, the power had been knocked out. The healthy fire that was burning in the fireplace couldn’t overcome the draughts that permeated the old, stone house. And now they were huddled together under a heavy wool blanket. 

She stirred, knocking him out of his thoughts.

"You warm enough?" Alec asked quietly. "I could get another blanket." 

"No, I'm good." Rose yawned. "Sorry. 'M just tired. Looking at a fire in the fireplace always makes me drowsy." 

Alec picked up his glass of wine and took a sip. "And it's been an emotional day." 

"Seems like this day was doomed from the moment I fell outta bed," she said. She saw disappointment in his eyes. "No! No! You were definitely the best and only good thing about today. I mean, Ellie was my first customer, and she interrogated me about our date last night, and then Chloe came in and insulted you. Again. And then — and then — we were, you know, _interrupted._ ” 

"You were disappointed? I thought you said we were being too hasty. That was the word, wasn't it?" 

"Yeah. I did say that. But that was — then. We'd never even talked about it, and then all of a sudden, we were peeling our clothes off and, well,” Rose grimaced slightly. 

Alec swallowed hard, and unsuccessfully searched her face for a hint of what she was thinking. He decided to ask, not guess. "What do you mean, _’that was then’_?” 

Rose looked into the fire, then right into his eyes. "Alec, what would have happened had the phone not rung? If we'd not been interrupted?" 

"You would have served me tea?" he asked, sarcastic, but in good humour. 

Rose sputtered a laugh. "I know what would have happened, you plum. I guess what I'm asking, what I want to know…” Rose shook her head. "No. What I _need_ to know is this. Would it have been just — hot, spontaneous sex? Or would it have meant something to you? It's been a long time for me, but even so, I've never — and I never would —have a shag for the sake of a shag. Even though we were being hasty, it still would have meant something to me and — and I don't know how long it's been for you —“ Her swift stream of words finally ceased, and she looked away from him. 

Alec turned her face with his fingertip so she could see his eyes properly. "It's been a very, long time, Gwen,” he said slowly. ”And yes it would have been more than just sex, much more because —“ Alec held his breath, then released it in a whoosh. "Because I'm in love with you, Gwen Lewis." 

She stared at him, lips parted, poised to speak, but unable to form words. She covered her mouth with a few fingers, partly to prevent herself from gasping, and partly to keep herself from a blurting out her reply. 

The silence rang in Alec's ears. "I'm sorry, I've spoken out of-" 

She flushed, squeezed her eyes shut and laughed silently behind her hand. 

"Oh well now this is just getting embarrassing," Alec said, looking up at the ceiling. 

Rose shook her head. "I — I — love you too. So, so much." Gracelessly, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down for deep, passionate kiss. 

He smiled as he pulled away, then encircled her with his arms and sat up. "I guess I misunderstood." 

After ten minutes of loving words, laughter and kisses, she was sitting sideways in his lap, arms around his neck, head leaning against his shoulder. 

"I have no idea how you could ever love this grumpy old man, but I'm certainly not going to question my luck." He traced small circles into her open palm as he spoke. 

Rose shook her head. "I'd say we're both lucky."  
"I know exactly when I realised it, too." His voice was thick and heavy. 

"You do?" Gwen asked.

"Aye," he said with a nod. "It was the week that I sent you gold coloured daisies. You were being particularly flirty that morning, and you asked my opinion about adding healthier breakfast items to your menu. You didn't believe me when I told you I made myself oatmeal every morning. And I remember exactly what you said." He cocked his head to the side. _”Figured you'd be a toast- running-out-the-door kind of bloke.”_ He attempted to imitate her accent, and then grinned with the tip of his tongue peeking through his teeth. 

"Oi! I do not sound like that!" she said, hitting his arm lightly. 

"Wait. I'm not done. You made Ellie's ridiculously sweet coffee drink, and I complained about the price, and then you said, _'Ellie never complains...she likes my coffee,”_ he imitated her again. "I slapped a five pound note in your hand, and for a minute I thought that the room was spinning, but it was really my heart pounding. Our hands were touching." He laced he fingers through hers. 

"You told me to keep the change, and then you ran out of the shop," she finished his thought breathlessly. 

"Well, I didn't actually run, but I was definitely running away," he admitted. 

"You came back because you forgot your wallet." Rose nuzzled her head into his neck. 

"Do you know how hard it was to go back into your shop? I thought for sure you could hear my thoughts. But then I overheard Chloe accuse me of stealing Ellie's job. But you defended me." His voice cracked.

"And then she ran out into the storm. Paul left, and you told me you didn't have many friends," Rose said sadly. 

"But then you, Gwen Lewis, you told me that I was always welcome in your shop. You hardly knew me, but you were kind when very few others were. You didn't care what other people said about me. And that..." He placed a lingering kiss her cheek, "was the exact moment I knew." 

Rose wrapped her arms around his neck, and buried her nose next to his ear. "I'll always be there for you." 

"And I'll always keep you safe. I'll not leave you, Gwen. Never." 

Rose hugged him even more tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. "That means more than you know." 

Alec looked at his watch, and saw that it was eleven-thirty. "You need to be getting to sleep." He squirmed in his seat nervously. "Gwen, will you share my bed?" He held up his hands. "But just to sleep. We are both tired, and honestly, I don't think I would be very... impressive." 

Rose laughed quietly and then bit her lip. "Oh, I don't know. I have a feeling you could be impressive in your sleep." 

He raised a single eyebrow and half smiled. 

She smiled softly and touched his chest. "But not tonight. We'd probably fall asleep on each other." 

"That's not an unpleasant thought, but you're right, not tonight. We'll save sleepy sex for another time." 

"Yeah." Rose said with a yawn that turned into a smile. "Take me to bed, Alec?" 

oOo 

Rose woke up wrapped in Alec's arms. The bedroom was nearly pitch black, save the blueish-green numbers on the clock radio on the bedside table. 12:00 was flashing. The power had come back on. 

She sighed, and pulled Alec's hands over her heart. For the first time since the White Wall, she felt safe and loved and perfectly content. She never thought she would fall in love again. She didn't even know if she could. But here she was, laying in the dark, being held by this man. This once broken and lonely, irritable and grumpy man. He had risked opening his heart to her, and in the process, had pried open her cold, closed heart. 

She dared to think about the possibilities the future held for them. She wanted to meet Ginny, to encourage the girl to see the wonderful man that her father had been all along. She wanted to explore the world with Alec, see new places with her hand in his. Would Alec ever want the domestic life with her? What about children? Would she be a good mother? Talk about being hasty! 

Rose rolled her eyes, and mentally chastised herself. They has been on one date, had a couple of intense, soul-baring conversations, and had kissed, well a bit more than just kissed. And oh, what kisses. She was really looking forward to more with him. She felt her stomach flip at the memory of him hovering over her just a few hours before. His dark eyes drifting over her bare chest, the feeling of anticipation, the arousal, the tingling, burning- 

Alec shifted in his sleep. He bent his knees, and nestled one between her legs. Pulling his hands free from her grasp, he moved one so that it was low on her belly, pushed just under her vest, and the other, just below her breast, but over the fabric. "Love you," he said quietly in his sleep. 

Rose marvelled again at the turn her life had taken. Joy had returned. He loved her, and she loved him. They had both said the words. Soon, her eyes were heavy, and she was once again asleep, lulled by the steady rhythm of Alec's strong heartbeat thumping against her back, and the feel of his warm breath on her neck. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**
> 
> **Mature rating applies to this chapter.**

Jake gathered a few belongings into a black, military-issue gear bag. He tossed it onto the passenger seat of his black Torchwood SUV, buckled up, and headed west. In his rear view mirror, he could see the hint of morning sunlight on the eastern horizon, but dark storm clouds dominated the skies to the west. It was shaping up to be yet another stormy day, and he knew the bad weather would slow what little Sunday traffic was on the road. Once he hit the M3, it would likely be an uneventful, three hour drive. His GPS mapping computer estimated a zero nine fifty-seven arrival in Broadchurch. He'd be just in time to invite Rose to brunch. 

He turned on the radio, but found it to be more of an irritant than entertainment, so he switched it off, letting his unsettled thoughts occupy him instead. 

Whether it was a time anomaly in Cardiff, a malevolent or overly-friendly visitor from another star system, or volunteering to be the first human test traveller through the dimension cannon, Rose Tyler had faced every challenge head on. He knew she'd been afraid many times, but she always carried on, in spite of her fear. Nothing could keep her down. She was the first in, and the last out of most dangerous situations, but never reckless. 

Even at her lowest point, during those months following the Doctor's ghostly goodbye, she'd seemed to find hope in her work. She volunteered for special projects, to complete after-incident reports, and even do the tedious task of analysing the monthly statistics. 

She offered to take extra shifts for people who needed to spend time with their families. She donated her sick leave and vacation days so that new dads could spend time with their newborns, or new moms could stay home an extra week. 

She had friends who cared about her, and never gave up trying to set her up on dates, but when she declined, which was always, she was never unkind, and always gracious. 

The complete loss of hope he had seen in her eyes the last time that they had spoken was heartbreaking. It was like the Rose that he knew and loved like a sister had vanished. Whatever it was that was tormenting her mind had her feeling defeated. It had been seven months! Seven! _Why is it taking so bloody long for her to snap out of it? What in the hell has changed her?_ Jake thought. He slammed a hand on the steering wheel.

_Torchwood needs her. The Earth needs her._ He needed Rose Tyler's emotional paralysis to end. But this was not mainly about Torchwood. He cared about his friend. He hated to see her withering away in some depressing seaside backwater with its own tragic history weighing down the residents. 

While he would never give away Rose's secrets to those whom she had become close, he was going to have a very serious conversation with her. He had to help her see reason. 

Why Rose had refused to even give Pete her new mobile number confounded him. Mobiles were easily altered to be untraceable, if that was her worry. Besides, if Pete wanted to find her mobile number, it would have been a matter of minutes with the information available to Torchwood. Jake wondered if Pete did know it, but was playing by Rose's rules? "Email communication only," Pete had explained to Jake after he'd stumbled upon Rose's new life as Gwen Lewis. 

Jake decided he was not going to play by Rose's rules. After all, he was _already_ breaking Pete's direct order by going to Broachurch.

He needed to talk to her face to face. He needed to see her home and shop, and give her security systems a necessary boost. And perhaps most crucial, he needed to observe, and perhaps even meet this double of the Doctor, this Hardy bloke. 

oOo 

Alec woke up to the comforting feeling of Gwen's head resting on his shoulder. He relaxed into the feeling of her hand on his chest, fingers splayed wide. One of her smooth legs was hooked over his hip, and her soft, warm body curved into his side. The measured movement of her chest rising and falling told him she was still asleep. 

They had gone to bed around eleven o'clock, and she had fallen asleep within a minute of her head resting on the pillow. He, however, had remained awake until after one, memorising the feeling of safety with the woman he loved sleeping in his arms. Right before he fell asleep, she had stirred, and pulled his hands up to her soft chest. He had whispered, "Love you," into her ear, and he was sure he had heard her sigh. 

Dark storm clouds obscured the morning sunlight, and steady rain was hitting the window. He debated whether or not to wake her. He was craving her touch, but she must be worn out. Of course Gwen was an early riser, considering she was in her shop before six o'clock every morning. He looked at his watch, and was surprised to see that it was almost seven o'clock. If this were a weekday, he would've already been been up and about for two hours. And if this were a normal Sunday, he would be waiting for her at the beach shelter for their Sunday morning run right now. 

So if he woke her, she had already slept in at least two hours. He didn't feel quite as guilty. He knew it was selfish to wake her, but they could always take a nap later. It was Sunday after all. He turned his head, and kissed her plump, red lips as one of his hands drifted as low as he dared, into the well of her back. 

She drew her first deep breath of the morning, and then lifted her head to look at him. A sleepy smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Hello." 

"G'morning. Sleep well?" His voice was gravelly. 

"Yeah. Great, actually. Only woke up once. You?" 

"Honestly? No," he said, but he was smiling. 

"No?" asked Rose, concerned. 

"You were distracting me," he said, teasing her cheek with a fingertip. 

"How could I distract you while I was sleeping?" she asked, grinning. 

"Just by being here."

"That wasn't very considerate of me," Rose teased. 

"Thought about you most of the night," he said. 

"What were you thinking about?" she asked as she squeezed and released the duvet. 

"This and that." He moved his hand under the covers, and squeezed her bottom. 

Rose's breath hitched, then she relaxed into his touch with a blushing smile. 

He grinned right back, and moved his hand to her thigh, squeezing a few times before daring his fingers just far enough to make her shift her legs. She closed her eyes as his fingers moved to her belly. She stopped breathing altogether when his hand moved under the fabric of her vest, upwards, until he was toying with the most sensitive place on her chest. 

"Uh, I just, uh, I — I need to use the loo, before, uh, well, we..." Rose swallowed hard.

Alec flashed her a self-satisfied grin, retracted his hand, and propped himself up his elbow. 

"Before, eh? Before what exactly?"

"Uh, well, you know, what we — we were talking about yesterday. If — if you want to." She cleared her voice and sat up, pulling the covers with her, hiding behind them. 

" _If_ isn't in question. _When_ is, but _not_ if." Alec said huskily.

Alec's confidence both thrilled and made Rose nervous. "I need to go." 

He nodded, and blinked slowly. "Um, take a shower if you'd like. The water is heated instantly, so it'll never go cold on you." 

"That sounds — nice." Rose cleared her voice again before she retreated into the safety of the en suite. 

She closed the door behind her, and leaned against it as she examined herself in the mirror. Rose cringed at her epic bed head. The hair on one side was plastered flat to her head, and on top, it was standing on end. Rose ran her hands through her hair, tousling it, trying to make it look purposefully messy. And then she remembered the feeling of his hands on her body, and how confidently he had stated his intentions. 

She bit back a laugh, realising that Alec was probably not thinking about her hair. She grinned, and looked down at her chipped toenail varnish. She tried to remember when she had her last wax. She squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face before dropping her hands to her sides. "Relax. Just relax," she commanded herself. "I've done this before and he doesn't care about my toes or bad hair." 

She decided that a shower would be a good idea. It would calm her down, and help her mentally prepare for what was coming. She stripped off her clothing, and turned the tap until the water was to her liking. 

Without further self-questioning or self-recrimination, Rose stepped into the stream of hot water and closed her eyes. She faced the flow, letting the water wash away her nervous tension. This was something she wanted. She loved Alec! Why was she letting her nerves get the better of her? She knew why. It had nothing to do with toenails or waxes or bad hair. She was still lying to him. He had been completely transparent. But here she was, holding back the truth. 

She bit back a single sob, convincing herself that it was the only way. "If he knew the truth about Rose Tyler, he would hate me. I can't have him hating me! He loves me, and I can't lose him too." 

She heard the bathroom door open. Rose instinctively covered her chest with her arms. She heard the water running in the sink, and then the sound of Alec brushing his teeth. 

"I told you it gets steamy in here," he said loudly. "Mirror's all fogged up. I can't see a thing. I bet my hair is sticking straight up." 

Hesitantly, Rose drew the shower curtain aside, and peeked out, keeping all by her face hidden. She looked at his hair, and snorted despite her nervousness. "And I thought my hair was awful in the morning!" 

"For that comment, Gwen, you owe me a cup of your complicated tea. Why don't you finish up in there, and while you're making tea, I'll take a shower. We can have a bit of breakfast and then see," he paused, "where the day takes us." 

Rose was taken aback. Didn't he expect her to return to bed? Had she misunderstood? Did she sense a bit of nervousness in his voice? She paused before speaking. "I brought your favourite Earl Grey." 

oOo 

Alec returned to the bedroom allowing Gwen to finish her shower in privacy. She'd practically fled from bed. Was she having second thoughts? Had the reality of him pushing their relationship forward cause her to think twice about becoming intimate? 

They'd known each other for almost six months, and he'd not been kidding when he had told her last night that he felt like it had all been leading up to this. Nit sex, but being together. He truly did see those six months as unofficial, casual dating. 

The water stopped, and he heard the towel being whipped off the bar. She was drying herself off. He scrubbed his hand down his face wishing he was the one rubbing that towel over her wet skin. He went to the window and half opened the wooden blinds. Rain, lightning and thunder made it far too stormy to go for a run, and he'd really needed a run right now. The door opened, and Gwen came out wrapped in a towel, clutching her wadded up nightclothes in her hand. 

"It's all yours..." she said, inclining her head. 

He nodded without speaking, and went into the en suite, closing the door behind him, far too slowly and quietly to be anything but deliberate. 

Rose stared at the closed door. Why had his mood changed so radically? Was he nervous too? As soon as she heard the shower curtain pulled aside, Rose let the towel drop to the hardwood floor. Nervously, she rifled through her bag, and quickly dressed before scurrying into the kitchen. She spied a copper tea kettle on the cooker, so she grabbed it, drew fresh water, and lit the gas hob. While the water came to a boil, she opened the refrigerator to survey what was available. She chewed her lip nervously, but despite the butterflies in her stomach, she grabbed what she needed, and began to prepare their breakfast. 

oOo 

Alec forced himself to take a long, cool shower, pushing the feelings of frustration deep down. After washing himself, he dried off, remembered to wrap a towel around his hips before he left the en suite. What he saw waiting for him took his breath away. 

"I -- I thought you might like breakfast in bed." She bit her lip and tipped her head to the side, searching his face for a reaction. "Here..." Rose held out a steaming cup.

Alec accepted the mug of tea, but continued to stare. He looked over at the bureau and saw two strawberry, yogurt, and granola parfaits layered in tall pilsner glasses. "I hope you don't mind, I sorta raided your fridge. I made a couple of-" 

Alec relieved her of her own mug, and set both of them on the bedside table. 

"Just so that I'm clear on this point. Because I would never, ever presume..." He paused. "You couldn't get out of bed fast enough this morning. I thought that-" 

"I had to use the loo," she replied quickly. "And I thought maybe you would appreciate me in something other than those ugly nightclothes, and feeling clean is always nice, so I took a shower, and-" 

Alec laughed heartily and shook his head at himself, realising he had been wrong all along. "Gwen, you could be wearing a potato sack, and I wouldn't care. And I certainly don't smell all that great in the morning, myself. Not saying that you smell like anything other than a field of daisies, of course." 

Rose giggled. "I suppose...I suppose I wanted this to be just right, 'cos I don't really...see..." she said, moving closer, "...ever wanting to be with anyone else but you." She touched his chest, looking at her fingers before she looked up at his face. 

"Let's make a promise, you and me, right now. Let's tell each other exactly what we are thinking. I thought you had changed your mind." 

"And I thought everything had to be perfect," she said, self-consciously. 

"It would have been perfect, even with that crazy morning hair of yours," he teased, messing up her dry hair. Then he became serious. "It isn't going to be perfect Gwen, because I don't know what makes you...purr." 

Her stomach flipped at the sound of him rolling those r's. Rose stood on her tip toes. "What are you waiting for then, Detective?" she said against his lips. "Start investigating." She untucked the towel that was still wrapped tightly around his hips, and it fell to the floor with a soft thud. 

He smiled into her mouth, a kiss serving as his answer. Together, they made their way to the bed. They broke their kiss to move to the middle of the bed. 

Alec fingered the low neckline of the simple, silk chemise. "I like this." He slipped his hand under the fabric, but then withdrew quickly. He looked panicked. "I almost forgot. I am really out of practice." He grimaced as he rolled over and dug through his bedside table drawer. He produced a foil packet, and put it under his pillow. 

"You won't be needing that. I have a five year implant." Rose touched her arm, subconsciously fingering the site where the steady release ampule had been inserted. "I mean, unless...you'd rather wear a condom." 

"I'm clean as a whistle, Gwen. Believe me?"

"Course I do. And so am I, disease free, I mean."

Alec toyed with the hem of her chemise.

"I think you'll like it off, better," she replied, bolder than she felt.

"Of course I will. Nothing to come between me and thee," said Alec, wiggling his eyebrows. 

She laughed. "I was talking about the nightgown. But yeah...you're right about the condom, too." Before she lost her nerve, she sat up and pulled the silk garment over her head, tossing it aside before laying on her back with her hands above her head, in an inviting pose. 

Alec looked at her, laid completely bare before him. He knew that it had been good to wait until they were both in their right minds. Now they weren't blinded by lust, nor impaired by fatigue. Both were fully aware and intentional. 

Alec bent over and kissed her with hesitancy, awkwardly starting and then stopping. Neither knew where to put their hands now that they were doing it rather than talking about it. 

Rose brought her hands from over her head down to her sides and looked over at Alec, who was stretched out next to her. She licked her lips, the action more nervous than sensual, as she surveyed his physique, resting her eyes right there. She knitted her brows together, and with hesitation, stroked him once. 

He sucked in a breath and held it... eyes closed... and then the floodgates were opened. Alec straddled her hips, pulled her up into his arms, kissing her roughly, pushing his tongue into her mouth, devouring her. She reciprocated with enthusiasm, and held onto him as he squeezed her body with his strong arms. His immediate hunger was eventually satisfied, and he lowered her down onto her back, tenderly. 

She smiled up at him, and he gently caressing her cheek as a wordless reply. She closed her eyes, and relaxed into the mattress, enjoying his slow and deliberate touches to her face and hair. 

He kissed her again but this time, the kisses were languid. He paid attention to one lip at a time, barely grazing his tongue over hers, and then he stopped kissing altogether. 

Rose sighed, perfectly content to rub small circles on his shoulder blades, kneading the taut muscles until they were soft and pliant under her hands. She had known that he would have a lean, muscular body under those dark suits of his. Running with him had given her more than a hint of his finely sculpted physique. 

But the reality of the man who was currently nibbling her neck was so far beyond her expectations, the only comparison she could make was that of an ancient Greek statue. Alec was just so beautiful. She would never say that word out loud, knowing that a man might take offence to the term. But to her, he was. 

She wanted to make this last all day and all night, and into tomorrow if she could. Slowly, she dragged her fingertips down his spine, over his ribcage, and then up to his shoulders, memorising this moment. 

Alec, however, was worried that Gwen was not feeling it. She was quiet, almost passive. Her kisses were delicious, and her hands felt perfect on his back, but she was not really _doing_ anything. Was she disappointed in him? He decided to change his technique. Without warning, his movements became frenetic, skipping from place to place, desperate to sample every part of her in the space of a minute. She began to moan and pant rhythmically, and he smiled, realising now that maybe he had been the one who was too passive. 

Rose craved slow, gliding, deliberate touches, but Alec's hands were everywhere and nowhere at once. She wanted to savour his touches, experience them, and at one point, went so far as to hold his hand in place when he touched her breast, forcing it to stop for a moment so she could feel his touch. 

Why is she holding back? wondered Alec. He craved her hands, wishing she would be bold and grab him, take what she wanted. She had held his hand to her breast, obviously she had liked that, so he kept his hand there, then moved his mouth to the other. He lifted his eyes to look at her face, and saw that her eyes were closed, her long neck exposed as she arched her chest into his mouth. When he sucked, she bit her lip. If he rolled her nipple with his tongue, she opened her glazed eyes and made a quiet sound in the back of her throat. When he twisted her gently, she squeezed her eyes shut formed her lips into the shape of an o. He smiled smugly, knowing he had started to discover what made Gwen Lewis purr. 

But still, her hands remained glued to his upper back, massaging the lean muscles, not that he minded, of course, but further south would be fantastic. 

Ever since the first time she saw him running on the beach, when his tee shirt had been soaked with sweat, and had clung to him like a second skin, Rose had fantasised about this very moment: Alec would hover above her, and she would be rubbing his back. Rose slowly moved her hands down his back, tracing his ribs with her fingertips, then back up again, then once more back down, closer this time to his buttocks. She rested her hands on his waist for a moment, not in hesitation, but because she loved feeling the muscles under her hands flexing as he ground his hips into her. 

He lifted his head from her breast, and uttered a filthy word, though he had a smile on his face. "Stop torturing me woman! Are you gonna grab my arse or not?" 

Rose sputtered a laugh, then squeezed his hips one last time, and grabbed his firm buttocks. She squeezed hard before she spread her legs and tipped her hips, pushing her heat against his hardness. "Is that what you wanted?" she asked, saucily. 

Alec growled, and once again, his lips and hands became frenzied, and he kissed his way down her stomach, stopping once to leave a love bite on her left hipbone before he knelt between her legs. "May I?" 

Rose nodded, bent her knees, and drew her heels towards her buttocks. She had only been on the receiving end once, and it had not been satisfying in the least, and at times, it had been downright painful as Jimmy apparently did not know the difference between nipping and biting. Something told her that Alec would not make that mistake. 

He hooked her legs in the crooks of his arms and tugged her close. His eyes were black as he looked at her one last time before making first contact. She moaned quietly as he took his time exploring her, first with his lips, and then his tongue. Soon she was slapping her hands against the mattress and rolling her head from side to side, making sounds deep down in her throat as repeatedly, he pushed his tongue into her. She pulsed her hips as he licked and sucked, nipped, and plunged. Finally, he removed his tongue, and sucked hard right in that perfect spot, until she came hard against his mouth. 

He dropped her legs, and she collapsed into the bed. "I... I..." she stuttered between pants. Rose propped herself on her elbows, and looked up at him. "I didn't mean to come so soon, but I couldn't help it." 

"And you're apologising because why? Isn't that the point? I'd feel sorta inadequate if you hadn't." He wiped his mouth with his forearm, and then slid up her body, dragging his chest over hers in an almost catlike move. "You taste beautiful, and I am looking forward to doing that again very, very soon." He grinned proudly before kissing her hard. 

"When can I return the favour?" she asked when he stopped for a moment. 

"Surprise me sometime. But not right now, because I want to be inside of you, Gwen Lewis. I want to feel you grabbing my arse." 

"Inside," she said needfully, between quick, peppered kisses. 

Alec pulled away from her lips, and cupped her face. She had finally told him what she wanted, and that made it impossible for him to hold off any longer. "Don't think I'm gonna last that long, love." 

"You are gorgeous and sexy and I love you, and I don't care how slow or fast it happens. Don't hold back, Alec. Let it happen when you need it." 

He touched his forehead to hers, whispered a few tender words into her ear, and kissed her one more time. They aligned themselves as well as they could, not knowing how exactly they would fit together. It took a moment to get the angles right, then a few breaths for Rose to become accustomed to being stretched in this most intimate way. 

"You alright?" Alec asked. 

"Yeah. You're bigger than —” She decided to stop there. Comparison was neither polite nor appropriate, especially in the middle of sex. 

Alec half smiled down at her proudly in spite of himself. "Let me know when it's okay to move." 

"Go ahead. Just start slow, 'kay?" She chewed her lip nervously, but never averted her eyes from his. 

"I'd never hurt you, Gwen. Let me know if it doesn't feel good." 

To relieve nervous tension, she nodded, then grabbed the sheets with her hands. But the nerves dissipated immediately, and soon Rose was encouraging him to move faster... harder... Yes! There! OH! 

True to his prediction, Alec only lasted a minute or so after it had begun, but Rose could have cared less, and when his mind was no longer paralysed by his own orgasm, he slipped his hand where they were joined, and quickly brought her to climax, with his name on her lips. 

When it was all said and done, and Rose and Alec and caught their breath, after they had smiled, and kissed, and said words of love and passion, they held each other, and fell back to sleep to the sound of the thunder rolling in the distance, and rain pounding against the glass. 

oOo 

Jake drove past her bungalow at a slow, but inconspicuous speed, noting that her car was parked out front. He looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was ten-thirty. It was unlikely that she was still asleep, but he decided to take a drive through the main part of town, to get a feel for Broadchurch before he approached her in person. 

He drove past Zoka, then past police headquarters. The town was buttoned up tight, but he did see a café with a neon sign that blinked 'hot coffee.' He'd go there, sit for a while, and come up with a game plan. 

The restaurant was nothing special. It probably catered to families on their way to or from church, regulars who chatted up the servers, and visitors like himself, just passing through. He seated himself at the counter, and accepted the slightly sticky laminated menu from the server. He asked for coffee, and it was immediately poured from the carafe already in the server's hand. He ordered eggs and fried sausages, then surveyed the room. 

His eyes stopped roaming, and his focus came to a grinding halt, landing on a pixie-haired blonde near the window. Rose Tyler and DI Alec Hardy were holding hands across a table for two. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**
> 
> **Mature rating applies to this chapter.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about Rose and Jake in this chapter:
> 
> As some of you know, this story was written as an exploration of how Rose might react to being permanently separated from the Doctor, and in such a tragic way. Some readers may think that Rose has acted out of character, but for _this_ story, I've purposefully written her this way: hopeless, self-doubting, and more. 
> 
> Additionally, Jake is not the most likable character in this story -- and this continues in Exposed as well. Again, I don't think this is his canon personality. But driven by the losses in _this story_ , I don't think his behavior would be out of the realm of possibility. He truly doesn't understand why Rose is feeling so lost and hopeless. He's trying to help, but his actions are driven by his own motivations and experiences, which have not yet been revealed. His reasons will be revealed in Exposed.

Jake considered jumping off of the stool and taking a walk over to Rose's table. To shock the hell out of her. Now that would be a wake up call. 

But better sense prevailed. Any tactician with an ounce of sense knew that observation prior to deployment was key to a mission's success. "Know your target," he quoted into his coffee before he summoned the server. 

"Ma'am, I'm gonna move to that table over there, by the window," said Jake, pointing generally. 

"I'll let Beatrice know," the server said with a nod and smile. 

Jake relocated to the spot within earshot of Rose and Hardy, but out of Rose's line of sight-- not that she would notice him. To say Rose was preoccupied was a gross understatement. Jake could see Rose in the periphery of his vision, and it was obvious she saw no one else but the man across the table from her. She looked genuinely happy. In love even? Whatever was making her glow, Jake had never seen her like this before. Ever. 

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and Jake turned his head slightly. Hardy had stood from his seat at the tiny square table for two, and moved his chair so that he was now sitting next to Rose. 

Subtle, grazing touches, quiet words followed by muffled laughter, eyes held captive and faintly blushing skin. If Mickey was there, Jake would have bet him ten quid that these two were already shagging -- which started him thinking. Why in the bloody hell was Rose maintaining this ridiculous false identity as Gwen Lewis? Or maybe she had told this Hardy bloke the truth, and was simply living contentedly, finally permitting herself to be happy? What were Hardy's intentions towards Rose? And what were Rose's intentions towards him? 

Jake settled into his chair, and continued his reconnaissance. 

oOo 

Sitting across from Gwen, even though it was a small square table for two, had felt like he was a mile away from her. Alec wanted to whisper words in her ear that would make her blush. He needed to feel her breath on his face, have her thigh pressed up against his. If it were up to him, he would forget lunch altogether, grab her hand, and drag her back to his home. 

"So what's good here?" Rose asked. 

Her voice pulled Alec out of his haze. "Uh, the fish cakes are good," he said, nodding. "So is the soup, except for the Mulligatawny which is always far too spicy." 

"But I like it spicy," Rose replied flirtatiously. 

"Then you'd probably like it. And, by all means, stay away from the shepherd's pie." Alec grimaced. 

Rose laughed. "That bad?" 

"Worse than my aunt's, and that's saying something." 

"My mum makes a pretty good shepherd's pie." 

"I thought it was a rule that everyone's mum makes a great shepherd's pie?" he joked. 

Rose's nose crinkled as she smiled. 

"My mother's was delicious," Alec said, somewhat wistfully. "You know, I'd like to hear more about your family." 

Rose's mind raced. She craved the deep intimacy that only came from truthfulness. She also knew that she could never again be Rose Tyler. However, there were things about her family that she could share. So she took a deep breath, and readied herself to peel away one more layer of falsehood. 

"Let's see Mum and my stepdad live just out of London," she said slowly, gathering her thoughts. "They've been married a little over four years." 

"So they got married after you travelled with James, right?" asked Alec. 

"Yeah. Right after. I'm talking days after James...after he..." Rose sighed. "The ironic thing is, James is responsible for Mum and Pete getting together. He sort of set them up, I suppose. James knew Pete, and thought Mum and Pete might be a good match, and he was right." She shrugged. 

Alec kissed her lips softly. "Your James sounds like he was a good man." 

She smiled at him and nodded. "He was the best," she whispered before forcing herself to brighten her mood. "There is something else, and I think you might find this sorta funny. I have a little brother." 

Alec's eyes went wide, and his eyebrows shot up and he smiled crookedly. "How little?"

"Turned three right before the accident. He'll be four soon. His name is Tony, and he has the cutest strawberry blonde hair." 

"Tony," Alec repeated the name, smiling. "You miss wee Tony, don't you?" Alec asked, hearing a hint of sadness in her voice. 

"Yeah. He's a sweetheart. But he can also be a right little terror. Pete don't half spoil him! Not that I blame him really. His first wife died." Rose swallowed hard. She had told this much, she may as well tell the next truth. "She was cyberised," Rose said quietly, looking down. 

"I don't know anyone who was lost that day," Alec said with compassion. "Hardly seems possible, even now. It's like something out of a science fiction movie." 

"Yeah, I really don't like thinking about it." Rose shuddered and quickly moved on. "Anyway Pete and his first wife didn't have any kids, and he'd always wanted them." She paused and took a sip of her tea. "And Mum, when she found out she was pregnant, she was in complete denial. I think they'd been only married about two months when she found out, but Pete, he was over the moon!" Rose shook her head, smiling. 

"Is he an older man?" he asked, cheekily. 

"Ellie's right, you are rude," said Rose, bumping his shoulder. 

"Aye. And curious." 

"He's older than you, if that's what you're asking," she teased. 

Alec made a grunting sound. "But he's not an octogenarian or anything, is he?" 

"What?" she asked, voice high. "My Mum did not marry some rich old man, Alec Hardy!" Rose laughed. "Pete's in his early 50's. Satisfied?" 

"So he is a very young man, then. How does he keep himself busy, him being so youthful?" Alec asked, fighting a smile. 

Rose laughed and rolled her eyes. "He exercises a lot, and he has a shop that he likes to tinker in. He also has this old run down Land Rover Jeep-like thing that he's constantly working on." 

"What does he do for a job?" 

"You are definitely in DI mode today, aren't you?" she deflected. 

"Habit. So what does he do?" he continued his questioning, despite her protest. 

"He -- he is -- uh, well, Alec, I have a confession." Rose flushed, nervously. 

"What? Is he on England's Ten Most Wanted list? Will I have to arrest you for withholding evidence, Ms. Lewis?" His eyes were glinting devilishly. "I have cuffs in my car." 

She blushed, and swallowed hard, nervous. "No! No...nothing like that. He...he is Director at the company where I used to work, at the security company." 

"Is that all? I'm disappointed, Gwen. That's rather boring, as confessions go," he made a disappointed face. 

"Just sorta embarrassing. Working for your stepdad? I didn't work for him directly, though." 

"And your mother? What does she do?" he asked. 

"She keeps threatening to go back to work, do hair like she did before she was married, but Tony keeps her plenty busy. I think she just wants to do it to get outta the house and be around grown-ups." Rose shook her head. "She's been taking cooking lessons since she and Pete got married." 

"Have the lessons even further improved her shepherd's pie?" he asked.

Rose laughed and shook her head, negatively. It felt good to tell the truth, so she continued. 

"You ready to order?" interrupted the server, looking down at Rose.

"I'll have a cup of tomato soup and a small green salad with vinaigrette, please," replied Rose. 

"And you, Inspector?" the server asked.

"Fish cakes," Alec said, handing the menu back to the woman. "And more tea." 

"I'll have more tea, too," added Rose. "Tea for two," she said with a sappy grin, turning to look at Alec. 

The server smirked as she wrote the orders on her pad. "I'll be back with your tea in a mo'." 

Rose waited to speak until the waitress was away. "What about your parents? I know your mum passed away. What about your dad? What keeps him busy?" 

"He's a retired postman. He walked most of his adult life, and still does. He likes to hike with his camera, taking pictures in the wild country up north. He uses real film," Alec smiled. "Even has a darkroom in his home, and develops his pictures to sell at the local street markets in Edinburgh." 

"Do you have any of his pictures in your home?" she asked.

"Aye. Several. I'll show them to you when we go back." 

"So a retired postman. Maybe that's why he likes to write you letters? To keep the National Mail in business? Secure his retirement?" 

Alec laughed. "Could be. Oh, that reminds me, I wrote Dad a letter this week. Proud of me?" 

"Very." She squeezed his hand. "What did you tell him?" 

The server brought their tea, along with a basket of fresh bread and crock of soft butter. 

"The weather, some general things about my current cases. And you." He traced a pattern on her thumb. 

"You told him about me?" Rose whispered.

"Aye." 

Rose opened and closed her mouth once before speaking. "I told Pete about you, too." 

"When?" he asked. 

"Last Saturday morning. I emailed him." 

Alec nodded and pressed his lips together. "So what did you tell him about me?" 

She smiled, biting her lower lip for a moment. "That you were a good friend, and that I had told you about my accident." 

"You don't tell many people about that, do you?" Alec pulled back and looked at her seriously. 

She paused, and shook her head. "No, not in any sort of detail, if at all. I should tell Ellie, shouldn't I?" 

"Why?" asked Alec. 

"Well, she's my friend. Sometimes, I think she wonders why I moved here." Rose looked out the window. 

Alec broke her growing melancholy. "So you told Pete about me after we snogged, but before we-" 

Rose covered his mouth with her hand. "Alec, not so loud!" she said through a nervous laugh before she withdrew her hand.

"You going to give him an update on your relationship status?" Alec asked with a glint in his eye. 

"Yes," she said, exaggerated. "In detail." Rose smiled coyly. 

Alec grimaced.

"I sorta like having you all to myself without getting questions from my family. But I will, of course I will. But no details." 

He grinned. "What about your mother? What have you told her about me?"

Rose shook her head. "Mum and me...we sorta...we're not really speaking to each other right now." 

"Oh." He paused, and knitted his brows together. "I'm sorry to hear that." Alec took a sip of his tea. "She didn't want you to move to the back of beyond, did she?" he guessed. 

Rose turned her head to face him directly, and spoke more loudly than she had since they had arrived at the restaurant. "Mum didn't want me to do lots of things, and she wanted me to do things that I didn't want to do." 

"Parents have a very special way of making their wishes known, don't they?" 

"That's one way of putting it." Rose looked down at their joined hands. 

Alec rubbed a circle with his thumb on her hand. "It will get better. I can't imagine you keeping her out of your life forever." 

She nodded. "Can we change the subject?" 

"Of course." He thought for a moment. "I told you that I always knew I wanted to be a detective, even as a child. So who did you want to be when you were a little girl?" 

Rose screwed up her mouth and blushed. "I told you about being in gymnastics when I was kid, but I didn't tell you I wanted to be in the Olympics," she said quietly. 

"I can see that," he said, looking at her over his glasses.

"I had to quit because it got too expensive. I was pretty good, too. Not Olympics-good but-" 

"So..." Alec cleared his throat and picked up his cup of tea. "Are you flexible?" He took a sip of his tea, hiding his slightly dirty grin behind the heavy white mug. 

Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head before laughing. "Why does every bloke ask that when he finds out I used to do gymnastics?" 

Alec set the cup down, ignoring her protest. "Well, are you?" He looked her squarely in the eyes. 

She looked down at the table and blushed hard, before lifting just her eyes to meet his, deciding to be bold. "I'll show you after lunch." 

Alec's heartbeat increased. 

Rose bit her lip. "What do you say we go back to my house?" she said slowly. "I forgot a few things, and well you haven't seen my bathroom yet. The tub," she looked up at him. "It's big enough for two, and you did say you liked my bedroom when you took care of me when I was sick." 

"You remember that?" he asked. 

"Yeah. Of all the things that are a blur about that day, I remember that. Must've been wishful thinking." 

"You're going to wear out this decrepit old man," Alec squeezed her hand, and half smiled, though just briefly. "Getting to be with you twice in one day, amazing..." 

"There is nothing about you that is decrepit or old, Alec Hardy, and who said anything about twice?" She kissed him a bit too soundly for a family restaurant. 

The server cleared her throat, and gave them each a stern look as they separated, and then placed their food on the table. 

Once the server had left, Rose hid her burning face behind her hands. 

"So, you going to eat your lunch, or just sit there hiding from Della?" asked Alec, leaning on his hand. 

"Who's Della?" she asked, dropping her hands to reveal her bright pink face. 

"The waitress. Faster you eat, the faster we can have seconds. And thirds. Or maybe even fourths." He winked at her. 

Rose laughed hard, dispelling her tension. They ate quickly. Alec paid, and they left. 

oOo 

Jake watched the couple as they hastily left the restaurant. Hardy pulled Rose along by the hand. 

He hadn't been able to hear much of their conversation with his naked ears, so he had pulled out a Torchwood-developed voice amplifying earbud. 

Rose was still playing the part of Gwen Lewis, but she had told Hardy about Pete and her mother. How was Rose keeping track of what was true and what was made up? What she had told, and what she hadn't? He thought it must be bloody mentally exhausting. 

He guessed that this "James" person she mentioned was her way of referring to the Doctor. Jake sort of understood how Rose might be reticent to tell Hardy about the almost-thousand year old alien she had been, or still was, in love with. 

The final revelation didn't surprise him, but did worry him. What he had only assumed to be true upon first observation had proven factual. They were having sex, and he guessed they had only recently become lovers. 

_Well this complicates things,_ Jake thought to himself as he finished his eggs and sausage. There was no way he was going to knock on Rose's yellow door and say, "Hiya Blondie, Pete's had a heart attack. Wanna hitch a ride back with me? And by the way, I wanna know all about that Doctor lookalike here you're bonking." 

oOo 

Rose settled between Alec's legs and leaned against his chest. As she had promised him, her bathtub was indeed the perfect size for them to share, both deep and long. They simply rested in the water, skin to skin, content to be silent, breathing in the faintly herbal aroma of the bath salts. 

She broke the silence. "Pete helped me buy me this house. In case you were wondering." 

"Why would I wonder?" Alec asked, spreading his hands wide over her belly. 

"'Cos it's sorta posh, and I'm only twenty-eight and single, and I used to work as a secretary. It's not like I'm a solicitor or something." 

"You sound like you feel guilty about having such a nice place to live," he said quietly into her ear. "Don't." 

"I got a business loan to buy Zoka, using the house as collateral. I make monthly house payments to Pete." 

"Why are you telling me this, Gwen?" Alec asked, confused. 

"I want you to know me. I worked hard-- so hard when I was at Torchwood. I had to get away from there. It was killing me. I was shrivelling up from the memories." Rose started crying. "I had to move back to Mum and Pete's after the accident because I needed constant care and rehab." 

Alec wondered how a secretarial position could be so debilitating, but then remembered something Gwen had said months before. "Gwen, when we first met, you told me you left your job because your boss was inappropriate. That wasn't true was it?" 

"No. Not hardly. But when did I say that?" she asked, confused.

Alec chuckled. "It was the very first time I came into your shop. You made me my first cup of your wonderful, complicated tea. I was investigating you, truth be told. Unofficially." 

"I was about to tell you to sod off, too." She turned and kissed him. 

"Ellie was bloody furious when I returned to the station holding a Zoka cup. She accused me of harassing the victim." 

"You sorta were." She paused. 

"Your answers were brilliant, you know. You let me have it both barrels, and I knew you were being truthful, that you came to Broadchurch to start over." 

"Well, truthful except for that. No one was inappropriate. It was the accident. I wasn't ready to talk about it then, and that seemed an easy answer. Sorta just flew outta my mouth. I'm sorry I lied. It was wrong." 

"Forgiven." He squeezed her waist, and she giggled, ticklish. 

"You gave me the courage to talk about it, you know. Being in the hospital after getting hit over the head. That had been a nightmare, and brought back so many bad memories. And then you, with your face. I thought I was really truly going insane." 

"That, I can understand. I had the same feeling when I saw that photo of you with James." 

Rose sighed and sank further under the water, resting her head in the middle of his chest. She wrapped her arms under his knees and pulled his legs up and over her own legs. "Pete has a pool, and swimming was the only exercise I could do. And my Mum, she was pushing me to be instantly happy, thankful I was alive, but the accident Alec, it was awful. I don't remember it at all. Only in my dreams. Nightmares. Every night I had them." 

Alec saw her shoulders bobbing, as her head fell forward. "Gwen." He sat up, and turned her in his arms, holding her as she knelt between his knees. "It's alright, let it out." He stroked her hair with one hand as she sobbed into his slick shoulder. 

She lifted her head. "And Ellie doesn't know either. I feel so terrible about that. I didn't want anyone to know. I was afraid people would think badly of me, but I had to tell you. I was so damn tired of lying!" She pulled away and covered herself with her arms and legs, curling up into a ball as far from him as she could. What little makeup she was wearing had run down her face. "And the reason I'm not talking to Mum is because we fought. She wanted me to just move on. Forget everything and pretend it hadn't happened, but I couldn't. Everything. Losing James and -- and the accident. So I ran away instead. I ran to Broadchurch. To escape. Pete said he understood, because of his first wife getting her body chopped apart and having her brain getting shoved into that metal helmet, and..." Rose squeezed her shut, and shook off the nightmare image, and calmed herself. "After she died he sold all of their fancy furniture, and their silver and some art, and made his fancy house a new place. That was his way of running away. At least that's what he told me." 

Alec extended his arms. "Don't hide from me Gwen, come here." 

She returned into his embrace, and dropped her head on his shoulder. 

"You don't need to keep that secret anymore, Gwen. You've told me, and that's that." He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. "You should tell Ellie though, the real reason why you came here. Tell her about James and the accident. She's a wonderful person, and has a very patient ear. Besides, I'm sure I'm going to frustrate you at some point, and you'll be needing her for sure, then." Alec's voice was kind, and laced with humour. 

Rose laughed, and then sighed. "And what about you? Your wife. She lied to you. I lied to you!" She became nervous again. "For six months! Will you ever be able to trust me again?" she asked, pleading with her eyes. 

"You did tell me the truth, Gwen. Sure, you omitted a few things, but why would you even feel obligated to tell me the details of your family, a long lost love, your finances, and that horrible accident? You and I are only just now getting to know each other, right?" 

She nodded, and then kissed him fiercely, hiding the biggest deception of all that she feared he would be able to see in her eyes. 

Soon they were out of the water, in her bed, feverishly giving themselves to each other. Alec loved her, and she loved Alec, and in that moment, that was all that Rose cared about. There was no Gwen or Rose. Only _her._

After a quick shower, they dressed, and Rose gathered the few things that she had forgotten, which included her running trainers. They emerged out the front door, and were greeted by a man with spiky, blonde hair stepping out of an expensive, black SUV. 

"Hi Gwen," he said soberly. 

"Jake?" Rose's voice quivered. 

Alec immediately knew something was wrong. "I'm Detective Inspector Alec Hardy. Is this man a friend of yours, Gwen?" he asked, protectively putting an arm around Rose, and pulling her into his side. 

"Uh, yeah." Rose shook her head, and closed her eyes. "Sorry, just a bit of a surprise seeing you here. Uh, Jake, this is my friend, er, the man I'm seeing, Alec Hardy. Alec, this is Jake Simmonds. He's a good friend of mine from London. Well, good friend of the family, really." 

"Can I come in Gwen? I have some news I need to tell you in person." 

"Oh." She paused, then laughed nervously. "That doesn't -- that doesn't sound good." 

oOo 

Alec brought tea things and a package of biscuits into the lounge on a tray, then sat next to Rose on the sofa. Jake sat on a side chair. His elbows were on his knees, and he was leaning forward. 

"Alec, Gwen's stepdad is in hospital. He had a heart attack last night. I wanted to tell Gwen in person," explained Jake. 

Alec pulled Rose into his side, and she wrapped her arms around him. 

"I need to see him, Alec. You understand, right? He may be my stepdad, but he's been like a real dad to me, and I love him so much, and-" 

"Gwen, there is no need to explain. You need to go. Don't wait, don't even give it a second thought," Alec said, earnestly while squeezing her hands. 

"Okay," she whispered. 

"I'm going to give her a ride back to London, and I'll make arrangements for her to get back to Broadchurch," Jake explained quickly. 

"Could you come?" she asked Alec, licking and biting her lips nervously. 

Alec shook his head slowly. "I wish I could, Gwen, but I can't. I don't have any more leave," he explained regretfully. 

"It's okay," she said, fighting tears. "I'll need to go get some things at your place. I have a prescription there. And Tiger, he's there too. Jake, I'll need to go back to Alec's place and-" 

"I will take care of Tiger," offered Alec. 

"The shop," she said quietly. 

"Don't you worry about the shop. I think the good folk of Broadchurch will survive without your complicated tea for a few days." 

Rose nodded, without cracking a smile at his joke. "You're right," Rose said, without emotion, as she stared out the window, then left to pack. 

"Simmonds, may I speak with you?" asked Alec, motioning his head towards the kitchen.

The men exited, and Alec assumed an authoritative posture. "How serious was the heart attack?" 

"Serious enough. He's scheduled for angioplasty this afternoon." Jake crossed his arms and spread his legs wider, mimicking Alec's stance. Jake may have been about half a foot shorter than Alec, but he did not easily give authority over to others, especially men he didn't know. "He has the best cardiologist and heart surgeon in London." 

"Make sure Gwen knows that," Alec said, pointing a finger. "You need to reassure her that she is not going to lose Pete. She's already lost her father and James. She needs to know Pete is in good hands." 

Jake was taken aback. "You know about James?" 

"Aye."

"Hardy, just how much do you know about Gwen?" 

His mouth curved into a proud smile, but only for a moment. "Gwen moved out at sixteen because she had a tosser boyfriend who convinced her to leave school. He stole from her, and not just her money. I know her best mate, Mickey, was in love with her, and they dated for a while, but she treated him poorly. She and Mickey reconciled years later, but she carried the guilt for a long time. I know that she travelled with a researcher named Dr. James McCrimmon for several years, and that they were very, very close - perhaps even in love - but he died without them ever being properly together. I know her mother married a man named Pete, and that Gwen has a little brother named Tony. I know that she was in a horrific crash, seriously burned, critically injured, and in hospital for almost a month, and that she should have never survived." Alec finally paused, lowering his voice. "I've seen that footage, Simmonds. It's a miracle she's alive." 

Jake opened his mouth to speak, but Alec interrupted him. "I'm not done. Gwen Lewis needed to leave London behind and start a new life, and I am proud to be a part of this new life of hers. I'm more than proud. I'm lucky. And I know that I'm a dead ringer for James McCrimmon, but I also know I'm not his replacement." 

Jake raised his eyebrows after the diatribe. "How much of that did you find out on your own?" 

"Gwen told me everything I know about her, Simmonds. There was no detecting involved." Alec smiled coolly and released it. "The only thing that I researched was her accident, and that was only after she told me about it herself. I wanted to make sure it had been investigated properly, and everything seemed in order, although I don't understand why the driver of the delivery lorry wasn't cited." 

"The license plate was obscured. Lotsa white lorries in London, Inspector," Jake said hastily. 

Alec raised an eyebrow, and crossed his arms again. "What do you do, Simmonds?" 

"I work for a firm that provides specialty high tech security systems. Speaking of which, how is it that under your watch, Gwen has been both attacked in her own shop, and had her shop broken into a second time?" 

"She is being cared for. In fact, she is staying with me currently. I don't want her alone until the perpetrator is in custody." 

"Taking a personal interest in her case then?" Jake asked, stepping closer. 

Alec smiled. "I've taken a personal interest in _her_." He paused. "So, you must be a rather close family friend to drive three hours to talk to Gwen," Alec questioned. 

"Yes, I'm a friend of the family." 

Alec nodded. "Through work, that's how you met Gwen isn't it? She told me she worked for a private security firm, the same firm where her father works." 

Jake nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Gwen was our secretary." He remembered to stick to her false résumé. "Well, more than that really. She kept us all in line. We miss her. I miss her. Like I said, she's a good friend. Very important to me." 

"I'm sure you do miss her, but now she is here, in Broadchurch," Alec said in a warning, protective tone. "With me." 

Jake understood Alec's unspoken message, and grinned. "I don't fancy Gwen, if that's what you're worried about, mate." Jake laughed, and slapped Alec on the arm, hard. "I'm happily married. Wanna see a picture of him?" 

Alec raised an eyebrow, and then relaxed, even cracking a smile.

"You're an inquisitive bastard, aren't you, Alec?" Jake asked with a dimpled grin. 

"Could say the same of you, Simmonds."

"Just looking out for Gwen. I need to know you're a man of upstanding character." He sounded like an over protective big brother.

"Your verdict?" asked Alec.

"I'm reserving judgment." Jake winked.

"Fair enough." 

Rose walked into the kitchen. "Why are the two of you still running your gobs? Stop wasting time, Jake! We need to go." She held two white plastic grocery sacks stuffed with clothing and toiletries. 

"Just getting to know this boyfriend of yours," said Jake, keeping his eye on Alec. "I'll tell you what you need to know on the way to London."

"Simmons, why don't you go outside, and get that enormous vehicle of yours warmed up. It's chilly today," Alec suggested cooly.

Jake extended his hand to Alec, and each of the men gripped firmly. 

"Good to meet you, Hardy. I have a feeling I'll be seeing you again." Jake left them to say their goodbyes. 

Alec wrapped his arms around Rose, and rested his chin on her head. "Pete is going to be fine, love." 

"I wish you could come with me," she said quietly. "I have seen you almost every single day for the last six months, even if it was just you buying a cuppa. I'm going to miss you, Alec." Rose rested her cheek on his chest, and listened to his strong, healthy heartbeat. 

"There is that modern convenience called the telephone," said Alec before he pulled away. He held her at arms' length, so he could see her face. "Come back only when you are sure he is fine, all right? I'll be waiting for you right here. I'm not going anywhere, Gwen." 

"Thank you," she whispered, and then kissed him. "Wait! You don't even have my email address," she said, sniffing back tears. She pulled a sheet of paper from the grocery list pad next to the refrigerator and wrote quickly. "Here." 

"Hopping4mylife," he read. "There's a story behind that I bet." 

"Yeah. A very long story." She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. "I'll tell you all about it someday." Rose pulled open a drawer next to the refrigerator, and produced a key on a keyring. A lime green plastic smiley face dangled on the ball chain. She pressed it into the palm of his hand. "And here's my spare house key. Keep it. This is yours now." 

"Go," he said quietly as he looked down at the key before closing his fist around it. "You really need to go." They kissed one last time. "Love you, Gwen." 

"I love you too, Alec." 

oOo 

Rose and Jake were ten minutes down the road before he broke the awkward silence. 

"Rose, why in the bloody hell are you still lying to that man?" Jake did not shout, but he was clearly upset. 

"Don't wanna talk about it, Jake." Rose leaned her head against the window glass. 

"You're gonna talk about it, whether you want to or not."

"What you gonna do? Dose me with truth serum?" she asked snidely. 

"Might do. We have some new stuff at Torchwood since you ran away from home. Tasteless liquid I could pour in your tea without you even knowing. Time release formula. In fact, I think I'll dose you the morning you head home, and it will hit you right about the time you and Hardy start snogging hello." 

"You are such a liar," Rose snorted. 

He grinned at her, then grew serious. "I'm telling you Rose, this is going to backfire on you. Badly. And that man is going to get hurt. And I can tell the two of you are head over arse in love. What you're doing to that man, it's shitty! He is a good man, and you need to come clean with him." 

They were silent for a few miles. 

"I'm happy being Gwen Lewis. I have regular customers. I give away day old pastries to the church senior centre. I run on the beach. I have a best friend who lives next door to me, and we have wine, and we eat too much chocolate together. And we talk about normal things like...like...movies and books and kids being bratty and what to wear on a first date. Gwen's a nobody from London who got a fresh start in a small town. Gwen is happy. Gwen is a good person." She paused and caught her breath. "I love being Gwen. It doesn't hurt when I'm Gwen." 

"But Gwen isn't real. You are Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. You are strong and resourceful and resilient. The Rose I knew wouldn't have have just given up like you did." 

"Some Defender of the Earth," she choked out the words. "Rose Tyler died the day the cannon exploded. I couldn't even protect my own team, Jake! Mickey and Tosh...all of those men and women with families, and children and..." Rose drew in a deep breath and refused to cry. "Rose doesn't deserve to be loved." 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

"What do you mean by that?" Jake snapped. "That's the biggest pile of--"

"Gwen is happy," Rose rushed her interruption. "Gwen is a good person." She paused and caught her breath. "I love being Gwen. It doesn't hurt when I'm Gwen." She looked out the window.

"But Gwen isn't _real_. You are Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth. You are strong and resourceful and resilient. The Rose I knew would've have just given up like you did." 

"Defender of the Earth, ha!" she choked out the words. "Rose Tyler died the day the cannon exploded. I couldn't even protect my own team! Mickey and Tosh-- all of those men and women with families and children and--" Rose drew in a deep breath and refused to cry. "Rose doesn't deserve to be loved." 

Rose's lack of self worth shocked Jake into silence. Rose Tyler, the Defender of the Earth, thought she had been defeated. 

A heavy silence enveloped Jake and Rose as the distance between them and Broadchurch grew. The salty tang of sea air was quickly replaced by rural, late September sights: harvest gold grain, withering corn stalks, grazing livestock, and enormous wind farms harvesting the power of the stiff, ever-present, ocean-bred wind. 

The inevitable rain started, sputtering against the windshield, and the wipers engaged. Rose listened to the rhythmic swip-swop of the rubber blades, letting her head fall back against the cool, black leather headrest. She closed her eyes and drifted into that odd state of half-sleep. Her body was resting, but her mind was not. 

Rose's thoughts tumbled as she recalled the bliss of being with Alec. Had it really been less than forty-eight hours since their dinner at Blue Fish? Since she had begun to expose herself emotionally? Since their first hesitant kiss? Since they had sat under the canopy of stars, listening to the ebb and flow of the ocean meeting the shore? That was the night she had begun the slow and painful process of peeling away the thick callouses around her heart. 

There were only a few lies left: what she really meant by _travelling_ ; that she certainly had not been a _secretary_ at Torchwood; and most important of all, _her identity._

Would it really be so hard to tell Alec? How would he react? Blind acceptance? Disbelief? Sympathy? Anger? Hurt? But most terrifying, how would he feel when he found out that she had been lying since the _very first day_ she'd arrived in his town? 

Every scenario that Rose imagined ended the same way: Alec Hardy abandoning her, breaking her heart. 

She returned to reality as the vehicle rapidly decelerated. A river of red brake lights wound its way ahead, and then disappeared around a bend. 

Jake looked over at Rose. "Hey. It's Sleeping Beauty." He hoped the lightness in the tone of his voice would steer their conversation in a more hopeful direction. 

Rose pressed her eyes with the palms of her hands. "Wasn't really sleeping. Where are we?" 

"About twenty miles out of London. Trip computer says there's a crash about two miles up the road." 

￼ She looked at the clock. "Got here fast. What'd you do? Go ninety the whole way?" 

"Gotta love those blue and white flashers," he said, winking at her.

"Yeah, I do miss being able to bust through traffic," she admitted. Her thoughts drifted back in time. 

_Rose loves the heady feeling of speeding through London, lights flashing, barreling towards the unknown. Mickey turns up the stereo so loud that Rose is sure that the windows will shatter. “The music pumps me up, Babes!" Toshiko slaps the back of his head and demands that he turn it down or else she’ll tell Pete that he is using the Torchwood servers to play Halo with other branches of Torchwood. "Sorry darlin', but Pete's currently at the top of the leader board."_

Rose closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath, and then released it through pursed lips. Everyone on the cannon team was gone now. Jake had been at Torchwood Tower with Pete remotely monitoring. Again, guilt punched her in the stomach. She wanted to run back to the safe anonymity of Broadchurch. She stiffened and clutched the hand grip on the door.

"So I just talked with your mum, and Pete's out of angioplasty. He's alert and in a regular room. There weren't any complications, but the heart attack was more serious than they'd originally thought." 

"Is he gonna be okay?" she asked, sitting up straighter in her seat. 

"Yeah, looks like he will. Dodged a bullet though. There were two blockages. One was small, but the other was almost one hundred percent." 

She contemplated what could easily have been reality. Her mother would’ve been twice widowed by the almost-same man. Her little brother would’ve grown up without a father, just like herself. And there was no Doctor to take him on a trip to the past. Rose covered her mouth with one hand and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Hey, hey, Rose, don't look like that. Pete's gonna be fine.” Jake gripped Rose’s hand and squeezed. 

"It's just a shock, you know? Pete never told me he had heart troubles."

"He didn't want you to worry. Wanted you to focus on—“ Jake paused. "He wanted you to get past this…” Jake paused. “To move past this _difficulty_ you're having." 

"Alec has, well _had_ , heart problems," she said quietly. 

"Serious?" asked Jake, surprised. 

Rose nodded. "He's got a pacemaker now. After the Danny Latimer murder case was solved, he had the operation. Would've died without it." 

They were quiet as traffic advanced a few feet, then stalled. 

"Broadchurch really buttons up tight on Sundays, doesn't it?" Jake asked. He released Rose’s hand and kept his eyes on the road.

"Yeah. Kind of old fashioned that way. But it's nice, you know? Actually having a real day off. That's how I met Alec, well, outside of him being the DI on my case. We met on the beach on a Sunday morning. He was running and I was walking Tiger. We decided to run together." 

Jake nodded. "Uh, I saw the two of you at the restaurant this morning. You were already there when I came in," Jake mumbled. 

Rose's head swivelled. "I didn't see you,” she replied. "It isn't that big of a place. How could I not have seen you?" She screwed up her face.

"I don't think either of you would've noticed a bomb going off." Jake chuckled, and then cleared his throat. "I heard part of your conversation, Rose." 

She furrowed her brows. "If you were close enough to hear us talking, I _would've_ seen you." She paused, and then realised the truth. “You used tech." She clucked her tongue. “You. Used. Tech.”

Jake squirmed in his seat. 

"What’d you use?” she demanded. “An earbud sound amplifier? Or did you bribe the waitress to put an internal transmitter bug in my tea?" she snapped. 

"Like I'd ever slip you a bug," Jake snarked. "Honestly, Rose. You think I would _ever_ put you through the agony of passing one of those bloody things?" 

"But you'll listen to my private conversation? What the hell, Jake!" Rose screeched. "That's not something friends do! I would never do that to you!" 

"Listen. Rose. It wasn't like that,” Jake backpedalled. “I’m worried about you. Why are you still hiding away as that, that, _Gwen person_ in that horrid Broadchurch place?" 

"I moved to get away from everyone judging me. Everyone telling me to just _forget_ everything that happened and hurry up and move on! Well I can't forget as easily as _some_ people!” Rose crossed her arms.” I _won’t._ And if moving away for a little while helps, even a little bit, then you tell me why I shouldn't have done it,” she shouted. 

"A little while?” He raised his voice. “A _little_ while?” “You’ve had _enough_ time, Rose! It's been over a _year_ since the cannon backfire. Why did you have go all the way to the back of beyond, away from your friends and family who love you? And now when I see how far you've gone, dragging other people into your _ridiculous_ drama! I’m just plain pissed off at you! I don’t understand!” 

“That’s the point!” she screamed. “You _don’t_ understand!"

Jake growled. “You think I don’t understand? I get it more than you think I do. Some people move on. They keep their grief private.”

Rose clenched her jaw.

“You know Rose, what is so bloody wrong with the truth, anyway? You're sleeping with Hardy, but you won't tell him the truth?" He smirked. 

She gasped audibly. "How do you know that me and Alec are..." Rose's voice trailed off. 

"Come off it, Rose. It's bloody obvious. The way you almost jumped his bones right in that restaurant." 

Rose’s chest rose and fell as her breathing sped up. Her face grew redder by the second. "I am a _grown_ woman, and I can shag _who_ I want to, and _when_ I want to." 

"Never said you couldn't. You feeling guilty about it?" he sneered. 

"No!" she shouted. "What's it to you, Jake? Huh? Tell me! If I want to live in Broadchurch as Gwen Lewis, how is that hurting you?" 

"You're hurting your family and your friends, and I'm your friend, and it makes me so angry that you are throwing your life away in that ridiculous town!" 

"It is _not_ ridiculous! It's what I need! Peace and quiet! And yeah, I need Alec Hardy in my life, too," she shouted, pointing at him. “And it’s not just shagging! We mean something to each other! If you were such a good friend, you’d be _happy_ for me! Haven't you listened to _anything_ I've been saying?” 

"Yeah, I'm listening, but you're just not making sense! How is running off to open some bloody coffee shop in bloody Broadchurch gonna solve anything?" he shouted back. 

"I didn't move to Broadchurch to sell coffee and tea, I moved to get away from everyone pushing and pulling me. As if me getting over what happened was on some schedule! You can't make someone—“ Rose paused, and her voice cracked. "You can't make someone just forget and move on. I can't forget! I won't! And if moving away for a while helps, even a little bit, then you tell me why I shouldn't have done it." 

"That's bullshit Rose, and you know it! You know what? Yeah, I am gonna judge you! You are being selfish and irresponsible. Just look at you! Running away, hiding, and then getting involved with a local. The Rose I knew wouldn't have just jumped into the sack with anyone!" 

"Alec isn't just anyone. You know nothing about my relationship with Alec. Nothing." She crossed her arms. "We may have only been officially seeing each other since Friday.” The words flowed freely from mouth. “But I've known him for _months,_ and I trust him, and I have no idea why I am telling you any of this, because it's not any of your bloody business!" she hollered. 

"Since Friday? Like — Friday, Friday? Two days ago Friday?" Jake asked, eyes wide. 

"Yeah! So what?" Rose replied defensively. 

"The way you two were getting on at the restaurant this morning, I figured you'd been going out for months!” His voice was high, and a bit squeaky. 

"Well maybe we look happy because we _are_ happy," she said, sarcastically. 

Jake ignored her. "Like I said, you were so wrapped up in Hardy that you didn't even notice me, not ten feet away! Great situational awareness, Tyler. If that’d been an op, you and your team would be dead!" 

"Well it wasn't an op, it was _brunch_. And I’m not part of Torchwood anymore, so you don't have to worry about me compromising my team. And I never plan to come back either! Got it?" 

Jake gripped the steering wheel. "Y'know Tyler, you used to trust me. Remember that? Back when you considered me a friend?" he barked. "You told me everything." 

“Well you aren't acting like a friend right now, Jake. How can I talk to you when you're acting like this? You're being a judgemental arse!" 

"Maybe it's time someone stood up to you, Tyler! A friend, a true friend, will tell you when you're being foolish! So this is me, your friend, telling you to end this Gwen thing. Everyone is going to end up getting hurt. You included.” 

She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead. 

"Tell me this, Rose. Do you think that Alec is so shallow that he can't handle the truth?" Jake asked pointedly. "Or is it that you don't want him to know the _real_ you?" 

Rose sniffed once, and stared straight ahead. "How long have you been following me?" 

"I haven't been following you. I arrived this morning. I drove by your house, and then decided to take a look around town. I drove past your shop, then looked for someplace to eat. That disgusting restaurant was the only place I could find open." 

Her mouth gaped open as she came to another realisation. "You were waiting for us when we came out of my house. Were you listening in on us when we were shagging too? Like you listened at the restaurant? Did you bug my house too, Simmonds?" she hissed. 

"I am not a perv," he replied forcefully. "You know, believe it or not, I’m half-happy for you. You were a misery to be around, do you know that? A bloody misery!" he shouted. "How many times did I try to set you up with a nice bloke? Mickey tried too! But no! You had to hold on to the impossible. You shut everyone out! Everyone! And it's time to move on!" 

"Stop it, Jake," she said under her breath. "It was not impossible! I made it through the Void so many times. We were so close! I wasn't holding onto the past, I was — I was holding on to _hope_." Rose's hands shook. "Do you know what it’s like to have hope yanked away? To lose _all_ hope? And then to lose so many people you love at once?" 

"You're not the only one who's lost people, Rose. I’ve lost people you don’t even _know_ about. And then I lost Ricky, and then Mickey shows up, and decides to stay, wearing Ricky's face! But did I stop living? Did I give up hope? No! We went on to Paris. And stopped the Cybers there." Jake caught his breath. "Mickey was my best mate too, Rose. So don't you _dare_ say your grief is bigger than mine." 

"You didn't kill your whole team, Jake! You should be angry at me about Micks!" She paused. "I bet you are. That's why you're saying all these things. You _hate_ me, and you _should_ , 'cos it's all my fault." 

"The cannon backfire was not your fault, Tyler! Stop being such a damn martyr!" he shouted.

"You may have lost Ricky,” she trembled, “but how much have I lost? I lost the Doctor, I lost a whole universe, that whole life just — gone in a second.” She paused, closed her eyes, and clasped her hands. ”Then the cannon happened. And if I hadn’t— hadn't been so set on getting back to the Doctor.” She looked out the window, tears streaming down her face. “You know, you’re right. I was holding onto the past. I wanted to get back to him so badly." Her whole body shook with racking sobs. 

Now his heart ached for her. ”Rose, sweetheart, you wanting to get back to the man you loved had _nothing_ to do with the cannon misfire. It was a mission. It was necessary. That may have been your personal motivation, but it wasn't why Torchwood built the cannon. You know that, right?" 

Rose looked at him, her eyes red and swollen. 

"Look. You're right. I suppose I don't understand why you think you had to move away. You deserve to be happy and have a great life, and if that life is in Broadchurch, so be it. But you will _never_ be happy until you come clean with everyone. It's all of these lies, Rose. Your life in Broadchurch, it's a sham. It isn't real. What you're doing, it's not right, Rose." 

Rose looked down at her lap. 

"I sat and watched you and Alec for almost forty-five minutes, and I have never seen you look so happy. Ever." He meant it. 

Rose grabbed a tissue, wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and looked away. 

"You talk about hope. Well, that's what I saw when you were with Alec this morning. And the way Alec is around you? He is completely in love. It’s obvious that the two of you are fantastic for each other. And I know why you think you can't tell him the truth, but you're gonna have to if you want any sort of a future with him." 

She shook her head. 

Jake calmed himself, and lowered his voice. "If you just explain the truth to him, he’ll want to be with Rose Tyler just as much, if not more, than Gwen Lewis. And you have _got_ to let go of this guilt. No one holds you responsible, sweetheart, and no one is judging you about the cannon accident.” 

Rose wrapped her arms around herself. 

"Rose, love,” he said, the tone of his voice softening as he stared straight ahead. "I hate to bring up the obvious, but Alec isn't the Doctor. You can't replace him with Alec just 'cos Alec looks like him. Who are you having sex with? Hardy or the Doctor? Lord knows, you told me enough times how heartbroken you were that you and him were never-" 

"You think I don't know who I'm sleeping with? Alec is no substitute. He is nothing like the Doctor. Nothing. And if there is one thing I learned from the Doctor, it's that people aren't who they look like, they're who they are inside.” 

"Rose, I care about you. I don't want to see you hurt. All I'm saying is don't fall in love with a ghost." Jake drew in a long, deep breath, and released it heavily. "Tell him Rose. Tell him before he finds out on his own. He's a detective. You're gonna slip up. It's gonna happen. And he’s gonna press you, or he'll start poking around, and you _will_ lose him. Tell him. If you care about each other as much as I think you do, tell him. Soon." Jake's jaw was set. 

Rose closed her eyes, and again, dropped her head against the headrest. This time she did not seek the solace of sleep. Instead, she processed Jake's words. 

Not another word was spoken until they arrived at the Naval Military Treatment Facility. They got out of the SUV, and then Jake locked it. Rose hurried toward the lift that would take them to the main floor of the hospital above. The lift ride was just as tense and silent as the last twenty miles she’d spent in the SUV with Jake. 

oOo 

"Rose?" Pete said, surprised. "What are you doing here?" Pete switched off the television. 

"Hi Pete," Rose said with fondness. She touched his arm, then leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Jake came and got me." 

"You disregarded orders, Simmonds," said Pete. There was no threat or anger behind his words. 

"Course I did. What sorta friend would I be if I hadn't?" Jake said quietly, looking at Rose. "Where's Jackie?" 

"Cafeteria. She'll be back in a few minutes." 

Slowly, Rose sat down in the plastic chair next to the bed. Jake stood and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. 

"So the angioplasty went well?" Rose twisted the finely knitted wool of her brown zip-front cardigan. 

"Went perfectly. Without a hitch." 

"You look better than you did last time I saw you, Pete. You aren't grey anymore," said Jake. "No more pizza for you, eh?" 

"So they say," Pete said, with a frown.

"You'll tell us when you're tired, yeah? Kick us out when you need to rest," Rose said quietly. 

"I feel a thousand percent better than I did yesterday. Stay as long as you'd like. Your mum is going to be very happy you're here." 

Stepfather and daughter smiled at each other. 

"So how are things with you, Rose?" asked Pete. He pushed a button, and the head of the bed inclined until he was seated upright. 

"Good." Rose leaned forward a bit in a plastic chair close to the bed. "I'm doing good." 

"You look beautiful, as always. But have you been crying?" he asked.

"Yeah," she admitted. "Worried,” she half-lied.” It's good to see you're okay with my own eyes." 

"I've missed you, Chips," said Pete, using his rarely-used nickname for her. 

"Thanks, Pete." She smiled sweetly at her stepfather. 

"So how’s the shop?" Pete asked. 

"Good," she said, nodding. "It's doing good." Rose swallowed awkwardly. "Finally turning a profit." 

"And Tiger, how’s he?" asked Pete. 

"He is doing good." Rose smiled, though it was emotionally flat. “Still sleeps most of the day." 

Jake rolled his eyes and smirked.

Pete saw the look, cleared his throat, and then turned his attention back to Rose. "So it sounds like things are _good_." 

Rose tucked a short lock of hair behind her ear, and pinched her lips. 

"You know for a hospital this posh, you'd think the cafeteria would have better—“ Jackie's voice was heard well before she entered the room. "Rose!" Jackie set her orange plastic tray down on a small rolling table and hurried to her daughter. 

"Hi Mum," said Rose, fighting tears as she stood to hug her mother. Rose didn’t realise just how much she’d missed her until she heard Jackie's voice, smelled her Chanel No. 5, and felt her arms squeezing her tightly. 

"Thank you for coming, Sweetheart," Jackie whispered. "You won't get into any trouble 'cos of this, will you? I know you've been—” Jackie winked. “—tied up with work." 

"No, it's fine. I'm good." Rose nodded, still in her mother's arms. She looked over her mother's shoulder at Jake, catching him shake his head. 

Jackie released her daughter from the hug, and wiped a tear from her eye. "Tony misses you something fierce." 

"What's he up to these days?" Rose asked. 

"Policemen. Can't stop talking about coppers. It's police this, police that." Jackie sat in another plastic chair. 

Rose felt her stomach flip. "Oh? How'd that come about?" 

"Who knows.” Jackie shrugged. "I think it started when Pete bought him one of them electric mini cars. You know the kind. Has a gas pedal and a steering wheel and everything. It's a little police car with black and white checkerboard paint even. I think the real reason he likes it is 'cos of the blue flashers and that bloody loud siren. He drives round and round the garden path ’til the battery dies. Jake, do me a favour and disconnect the siren next time you come round. The noise is driving me insane! He even has a little uniform. Cutest little thing you ever saw," said Jackie, grinning. 

Rose listened quietly while Jake studied her reactions. Pete, a master of observation, watched as well, noting how Rose's skin flushed as Jackie prattled on about the police, sirens, and uniforms. 

"So," Rose said, “have you been taking any more cooking classes, Mum?" 

"I was signed up for Italian next month, but I think I'm gonna change it to a healthful food preparation class. The dietician came round this morning and spoke to me while your father was having that tube jammed up his leg." Jackie turned her attention to Pete. "You wouldn't be in this position if you'd listened to me in the first place, Pete. All of that fatty food from Alonso's, I knew it would come back to haunt you." 

"Lay off Jacks, not even my cardiologist knew how bad I was, so how could I?" 

"It's not just the food, Pete. It's _everything_. Your life is too stressful. Between running Torchwood, sneaking about like a twenty-year old on those secret missions, and those meetings with the President, it’s all too much!" Jackie fumed. 

"And I think that is my cue to leave," said Jake with a false grin. 

"Hold up Jake," said Pete raising his hand. "Jackie, I need a minute with Jake and Rose. Work stuff." 

"Sure," Jackie answered. "I'll go to the machine and buy myself a Vitex. Do either of you two want something?” 

"No thanks, Jackie," answered Jake. 

Rose shook her head.

As soon as Jackie had cleared the room, Pete motioned for Rose and Jake to move closer. "What's going on between you two? You're both shooting daggers outta your eyes." 

"Really?" Jake pushed out his lower lip and shook his head. "I haven't noticed anything. Rose? Are you upset about something?" he asked Rose. 

"No. I'm fine. Just worried about you, Pete," she said with a sad smile.

Jake cleared his throat, and the occupants of the room became awkwardly silent. 

Pete shifted in the bed. "So Rose, you haven't told me too much in your emails about what you do with your days. Do you have friends? Hobbies?" 

"Pete, I've started to see someone," Rose said in a rush. "Jake met him today. His name is Alec. Alec Hardy." Pete nodded and smiled slightly. 

"What does this Alec Hardy do?" He folded his hands over the blanket. 

"Detective Inspector for the Broadchurch Police Department," she answered quietly. "Um, he's the one who solved the murder of that little boy last year, Danny Latimer." 

Pete made an approving face. "Didn't you tell me that the woman whose husband was charged is your neighbour?" 

"Yeah. Ellie. She's Alec's DS. We're good friends," Rose said. 

"You never have problem making friends, do you?" Pete said, touching her hand. 

"That's me. Friendly Rose," she said, with a hint of false cheer. 

Jake stood. "Rose, how about you give me your mobile number, and I'll call you about transport back to Broadchurch." 

Begrudgingly, Rose pulled out her mobile to email her contact to Jake.

"Why don't you give your contact to Pete while you're at it?" Jake suggested.

"Oh, I already have it, Jake," Pete said, watching Rose's reaction.

Rose's face softened knowing that her stepfather had kept her contact information to himself. 

Pete smiled. "Thanks for bringing her, Jake. Glad you disobeyed orders," he said with a wink. 

Jake left quietly, and closed the door behind him. 

"You gonna tell your mum about this bloke you're seeing?" asked Pete. 

Rose raised a single eyebrow, then looked away. 

Pete laughed quietly. "Probably right. Best not to tell her just yet. So, he is the one you mentioned in your email. The one you told about the accident, right?" 

She nodded.

"What else have you told him?" asked Pete, gently probing. 

“Enough.” She looked down and picked at her fingernails. "We've only, uh," she paused to search for the right words. "We’ve only gone out a couple of times. Like I said, it's really not that a big deal." 

Pete studied her quietly for a moment. He nodded. “Not a big deal?” He didn’t pause. “So you’re glad you moved to Broadchurch, I assume?” 

Rose nodded. "Yeah, I suppose." She looked up at the ceiling. "I'm happier than I've been since—“ She looked directly at Pete. 

"Since you were stranded in this Universe, right?" Pete smiled.

She closed her eyes and nodded before opening them again. "Gwen is the one who's happy, Pete." 

Pete frowned, but then took her hand, squeezing it lovingly. "You're the same person, Rose. You have a different name, but you are still you."

“Jake doesn’t have the same opinion as you.”

Pete nodded.

oOo 

"Where's Gwen?" Ellie asked Alec as she looked over Alec's shoulder. "She's supposed to help me make dinner." 

"Gwen isn't here, she's in London." 

They walked into the kitchen, and Ellie went to the refrigerator. "London? What's she doing in London?" she asked with a slight frown. She grabbed two bottles of India pale ale. 

"Her stepfather is in hospital. Had a heart attack last night, and was scheduled for angioplasty today." 

"Oh that's awful!" she exclaimed. "Is he going to be okay? Gwen must be a nervous wreck!" Ellie frowned and squeezed her eyes shut as she heard arguing upstairs. "Boys! Stop that hollering right now,” she bellowed. “Or do it quietly!" She returned her attention to Alec and pinched the bridge of her nose. "The boys have been monsters today, sorry. When did she leave?" Ellie handed Alec one of the bottles of IPA. 

"About six hours ago." Alec sat at the kitchen table, gingerly. "A family friend came down and told her. They rode back together." 

"Oh," she said, somewhat surprised, as she handed him a bottle opener. "When did you talk to her last?" Ellie leaned against the counter, and crossed her arms, clutching her bottle in one hand. 

"I haven't since she left."

"You haven't called her yet?" Ellie asked. 

"I've called, but she hasn't picked up. Left messages, though. Hospital probably has a no mobile policy." Alec looked down at the bottle, then back up at her. 

Ellie pulled her mobile from her pocket and dialled, watching Alec while she waited for her friend to answer. 

"Hi Gwen, this is Ellie,” she said melodically. "Alec just told me about your stepdad. I'd love to hear from you when you have a mo. Bye." She ended the call with her thumb, and looked a Alec. "You all right?" 

Alec frowned. "Hits a bit close to home. Him having a heart condition. And Gwen has had such a rough time of it, Ellie. I really hope he’s going to be okay." 

Ellie pushed herself off of the counter and sat down at the table across from Alec. "Has she ever told you details about that car accident of hers? She skirts the issue with me. All I know is that she had a serious head injury." 

"Aye. She has. But only what she remembers. Told me what she knows about it on Friday night." He paused. "I may have taken a look at the accident report." Alec took a swig of his ale. 

"And...?" Ellie leaned forward, frowning.  
Alec was silent for a moment. "She shouldn't have survived, Ellie." "Really? That bad?"

"That bad." Alec took another drink from his bottle. "Hit the concrete wall of a warehouse head-on, going about seventy miles an hour. A gas meter ignited, and then the warehouse and her SUV caught on fire. Her face and hands were badly burnt. Multiple broken bones. Collapsed lung. Skull fractures. Coma for nearly a month." 

"Seventy. That's bloody fast." She frowned. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but was she under the influence?" 

Alec shook his head. "Mechanical failure. Accelerator malfunctioned, then a lorry pulled into her path. She swerved to avoid it, lost control, and hit the building. She was found without fault." 

Ellie shook her head and set down her bottle. "I don't really feel like cooking," she said quietly. "Would you mind if I ordered Chinese?" 

He nodded. "Get me stir fried chicken and broccoli. No salt, no MSG, no sauce. And a side of steamed brown rice." 

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Anything else I can get for you, _Sir_? Perhaps a refill on that drink?" 

"No, that'll be fine," he replied, ignoring her sarcasm. 

She lost her irritation. "Show me tomorrow, would you? I want to see that accident report." 

Alec's mobile beeped indicating a message had arrived. He looked at the screen. "It's from Gwen. Her stepdad is going to be okay, and he gets to leave hospital tomorrow." 

"Thank God!" Ellie said, relieved.

"I don't know that I am really up for video games and Chinese tonight,” Alec said. He rubbed his hand over his stubbled chin.

"Aw, really? The boys'll be disappointed. They were looking forward to kicking your skinny little arse.” 

"They'll live, I'm sure," Alec said, with a smirk. 

"Next Sunday. Promise?"

"Sure," he said with a nod.

Ellie smirked. "Don't sound so excited." 

oOo 

"I miss Gwen's coffee," Ellie pouted as she walked into Alec's office. "I forgot how shitty the food wagon coffee is. Gwen's spoilt me for anything else." 

"You don't drink coffee, you drink _sugar_ ," Alec said sourly, without looking up from the screen. "Watch this." Alec cued up the video of Gwen's accident, and then turned the computer screen to face Ellie. 

Together they watched the accident unfold.

"Oh my gods." Gwen covered her mouth with her hands. 

The footage ended. ”Quick. First impressions, Baker," he said blankly, turning his chair so that he was facing Ellie directly. He folded his hands and put them in his lap, calmly. 

She closed her eyes and put her pointer fingers on her temples as she thought. "Um. Night time. Straight and empty street. Driver of the white lorry probably didn't look before backing up 'cos no one ever drives through a dodgy warehouse district at night, especially a pretty, young blonde. Gwen’s driving a really expensive vehicle. Emergency crew got there in record time. Gwen's got long hair. Extensive burns. Probably required plastic surgery.” Ellie opened her eyes. “She was so badly injured. That was horrible. Her face. It was…” She shuddered. 

"Baker. Ellie." Alec asked with a lump in his throat. "Can you tell me how Gwen survived that?" He swallowed hard. 

"I have no idea," she answered, her eyes wet. 

"Ellie, Gwen has only one scar. It is behind her ear. A small incision where the shunt was." 

"She has to have some scarring, her clothing was burned off!" Ellie said, frowning. 

He shook his head. "Not one." 

"But she had third degree burns from the waist up!" 

Again, he shook his head negatively. 

Ellie's eyes grew wide, understanding just _how_ he knew the lack of scars under what would be covered with clothing. She frowned. "Blimey, Alec. Don't you think you two are moving a bit fast?"

oOo 

Like the dermal stimulation that Rose had been given to treat her burns after the cannon backfire, and the broad-spectrum virus inhibitor medication that Rose kept in her bathroom medicine cabinet, the treatment that Pete had received at the Naval Military Treatment Facility at Greenwich was alien. 

Pete had been one of the most vocal advocates for the speedy release of alien-sourced medical technology to the general medical community. And now, he was the beneficiary of that alien medicine, which was not yet available to the rest of the world. The particular medication he had been given was a muscle fibre stimulant. It had repaired the heart tissue which had been damaged by the heart attack. Pete was sent home just two days after what had turned out to have been a major heart attack. 

"Knock knock," said Rose standing outside the open door of Pete's home office. "You up for a visitor?" 

"Come on in," he replied. "I'm reading for pleasure. Take a picture for posterity. Probably the last time you'll see me doing it until I retire.” He held up the book. “Current best seller about French spies in Poland during the Great European War of 1940. Good read.” Pete inserted a bookmark and set it down next to a mug of chamomile tea. 

"Looks good." Rose sat down on a chair across from Pete's recliner. 

"So you're leaving us soon?" Pete asked. 

"Yeah." She cleared her throat and fiddled with her fingernails. 

"Your mum’s missed you." Pete folded his hands in his lap. "She's disappointed that you're leaving so soon, but she understands. Well, she _thinks_ you have to go back undercover." 

"I'm sorry, Pete." Rose's face contorted, and tears welled in her eyes. She hid behind her hands for a moment, while she composed herself. 

"For what?" he asked, confused. 

"Making you lie to Mum, covering for me. Forgive me?" 

He was speechless for a moment. "I — um — Thank you Rose. Yes. I do." 

Rose felt a bit of relief, knowing that perhaps she was taking first step toward true healing. She looked out the window at the ever-present rain. 

Pete frowned. "Jake told me something, and before you get angry at him, he has your best interest at heart." 

Her head snapped back to Pete. "Rose, he told me that you believe you don’t deserve to be happy. Is that true?" 

"I really wish he hadn't told you that," said Rose, looking down at her lap. 

"Please tell me that you really don't believe that, Rose."

Rose a sniffed and closed her eyes, nodding.

"But you're happy with your new life? Running a shop, living by the sea?" 

"Yeah, I am happy. But—” She paused. "It's because I’m a different person there. I'm _Gwen_ there. And _Gwen_ is the one who's happy, the one who's made the friends. _Gwen_ found someone who makes me happy.” She smiled. “And I make him happy too."

Pete smiled, and took her hand, squeezing it lovingly. "You're the same person, Rose. You can't tell me you've hidden yourself so deeply that you're a completely different person in Broadchurch." 

Rose didn’t acknowledge Pete's encouragement. "Um, there is something else. Something big." She smiled at Pete, but it was a broken, scared, worried smile. "Alec, well, he..." Rose pinched her lips and looked Pete in the eyes. "He looks just like the Doctor," she whispered. 

"I know," Pete said, nonchalant. 

"How?" she asked. 

"Do you really think I wouldn't have done research on the DI who’s handling the break-in of my only daughter's shop?" 

Rose sighed, then smiled, eyes watery. "What am I gonna do? I _love_ him. I love _Alec_." It was the first time she had admitted her love to anyone other than Alec himself. And it was the first time she’d ever called Pete, _Dad_. 

"You love him?"

She nodded, just enough so he could see.

"Does he love you?" Pete asked.

Rose frowned. ”He loves Gwen." 

Pete smiled. "Then he loves Rose. It'll work out." 

"You can't know that." 

“I suppose. But he'd be a fool if he didn't." He paused for. "You know, I think there is an elephant in the room you’re ignoring." 

"What's that?" she asked almost in a whisper, looking down at her hands. 

"Me." Pete folded his hands.

"How so?" Rose frowned.

"Rose, I'm your father's double, aren't I?" 

"Well, yeah..." 

"And Jacks, your mum, is a twin for my first wife, and from what she’s told me, in most ways, I'm nothing like him. We _chose_ to love each other. We made an _actual decision_ to love." 

"Yeah," she said, squeezing her eyes shut and shook her head. "I get all that, but we've been over this a million times already." Rose opened her eyes. "Jake thinks I'm in love with a stand-in for the Doctor, and there were times I was worried about that, too. But he's so different than the Doctor. I don't even see the Doctor's face anymore. I just see Alec." 

"That's how I see your mother. How I see my wife. At first, I saw my first Jackie, and really did think of her as a copy, almost as a clone. But I figured out very soon that they are two completely different people. Think about it. Do you love Alec for his face? Or because of the things he does? How he acts? How he treats you?" Pete looked at her over his reading glasses.

Rose dipped her head, and then brought her eyes level with her stepfather's.

“I thought so. So stop worrying.” Pete nodded.

Rose smiled and covered her face with her hands.

"And thanks."

"For what?" she asked, looking up from her hands.

"For finally calling me Dad." His eyes were wet. 

Rose stood, then leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Sorry it too me so long. I've thought of you as Dad for a long time." 

"And you're my daughter. From the moment I caught you, I knew. Didn’t want to admit it, but I knew.”

“I think you’re the only one who actually understands all of this.” 

“Well, you and, we're an awful lot alike. We've both lost a lot, but we've both won, too.” Pete took off his reading glasses. “Tell your mum and tell Alec, Rose. It's time to move on. Stop being Gwen. Tell this Alec of yours. If he really loves you, he'll understand." 

oOo 

Rose was reasonably certain that her stepfather was going to be fine. She asked Jake make good on his promise to get her back home. He came through, making the arrangements for her to return to Broadchurch the day after the next, a Thursday. 

Rose sat cross-legged on the bed in her old bedroom, staring at the screen of her mobile. Being in her parents' home was a constant reminder of the enormous lie her life had become. She had tried to convince herself that telling half truths was good enough, necessary even, for her happiness. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about Pete's words. _You can't tell me you've hidden yourself so deeply, that you're a completely different person._ Maybe she was starting to believe that, too. 

_But who did Alec fall in love with?_ she asked herself. _Rose or Gwen?_ She wondered if Gwen and Rose really _were_ the same person after all. It wasn’t like she had split personality disorder. She had chosen a new name, a new history, and a new life. But if she were to take away those details, would there be any differences between Rose and Gwen? 

Rose had loved her Doctor, both before and after he regenerated. He may have looked different, but he was the same man. It was because of the _memories_. Rose and Gwen looked the same, dressed the same, liked and disliked the same things, and held the same opinions. But most important, Gwen and Rose shared the same memories. 

Her conversations with both Jake and her stepfather had churned up an old worry. Was she attracted to Alec? Or a ghost of the Doctor? _Of course it’s Alec,_ she told herself. 

She loved his quirky ways, his rudeness, his arrogance and... Rose stopped herself. Those were all characteristics that her Doctor had possessed. Was Jake right? Was she substituting Alec for her Doctor? 

The growing turmoil inside her heart and head was not just about a future with Alec. This effected her immediate family as well. Would she lie to Mum for the rest of her life? And what about Tony? Would he ever really know his big sister? Thoughts tumbled, growing darker. 

Had the stress of lying to his wife contributed to Pete's heart condition? It sure couldn’t have helped. More guilt washed over Rose as she thought about all of the people she had caught in this web of deception. The decision to assume a new identity _had_ been selfish. She understood that now. But simply resuming her true identity as Rose Tyler would hurt the people who had learned to love and trust Gwen Lewis. 

And maybe she _had_ seen Alec as some sort of stand-in. In the beginning. But not now. No, now she loved _Alec Hardy_. She would always love the Doctor, but at some point, she had made a decision to love Alec Hardy for the man _he_ was. 

She hadn’t _fallen_ in love with Alec. _Falling_ implied a lack of control, having no choice in the matter. And if there was one thing for sure at the center of this giant mess, she was _choosing_ to love Alec Hardy. 

Rose reached for the square box of tissues on her bedside table, dabbed her eyes, and then blew her nose. What should she do? Keep up the charade with everyone? Tell Mum, but not Alec and Ellie? Tell Alec, but not her mother? No matter what she did, someone she loved was going to get hurt. 

Deep down, in her heart, she knew there really was only one right answer. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

"How many times are you going to watch that bloody video?" Ellie leaned on the doorway to Alec’s office. She crossed her arms.

He ignored her, staring at the screen. He paused it a few times. 

"You know, I could go outside and find a stick so you could beat yourself with it. It'd probably be less painful," she said with a hint of sympathy under her sarcasm. 

Alec looked up at Ellie, and then pulled off his glasses. He rubbed his eyes, and then slid on his glasses.

Ellie’s face softened.

"I showed the video to SOCO,” Alec mumbled.

“Who? What? Why?" Ellie demanded, frowning. 

“Dirty Brian may be a bastard, but he’s good at his job.” Alec looked up from the screen briefly. "Fresh eyes." 

"Yeah," sighed Ellie, dropping into a chair. "But why can't you just take it as it is? Something unexplainable? A miracle even. Kind of the same way Spooky Steve can see things." 

"Steve Connolly telling ghost stories and Gwen surviving this crash are two completely different things, Baker," Alec snapped. 

Ellie yawned. "It has been a really long day, Alec. My boys are terrorising the nanny. She’s texted me about a hundred times. I have a bloody bad headache. I'm hungry and I want to go home. And here you are brooding. Just be thankful, you idiot. Gods, I can hardly wait until Gwen gets back.” 

He leaned back in his chair. "I've found an inconsistency. I needed Brian to look at it to make sure I wasn't seeing things." 

"Take a look at this." Alec cued the video to one minute, fourteen seconds, and then pressed pause. "Look at this tyre." He pointed at the right rear tyre of the black SUV. 

Ellie squinted as she studied the screen. "What am I looking for here?"

"The brand." Alec fiddled with a pencil.

"Firestone. So what?”

He advanced playback at the slowest setting, then pressed pause. "Look now." 

"Bridgestone. What the hell?" She watched as the lorry backed up and Gwen swerved to avoid. He shut down the video before he had to watch the collision one more time. 

"Brian thinks that someone has tampered with this accident footage." 

oOo

Rose toyed with her earring. "Mum, um, wanna have a cuppa with me?" 

"Of course, Sweetheart." 

Rose picked up her mother’s simple, white, stoneware teapot, and poured a second cup of tea. She pushed the bright pink mug across the kitchen table. 

"You're nervous about something, aren't ya? Well if you're worried about Pete, don't be. He's got the best care-" 

Waving her hands at her mother to stop what was sure to be a ramble, Rose spit out her words before she changed her mind.

"I really, _really_ need to tell you something, and if I don't do it now, I'm afraid I'm gonna lose my nerve." She took a deep breath. "I haven't been on an op in Nova Scotia or British Columbia or wherever it was that Pete told you I've been." 

"Pete didn’t tell me anything. Said it was top secret," said Jackie, frowning. "Rose, I don't understand. What are you saying?" 

"What I'm saying is — I moved to Broadchurch. In February.” She looked down into her mug. "I quit Torchwood. I sold my flat. I left everything and everyone behind." 

"Broadchurch?" Jackie scowled. "Broadchurch?" she repeated, louder. 

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "I've been lying to you, Mum," she choked out, "and — and Pete's been covering for me. But get mad at me, not him. I begged him, Mum. You didn't seem to understand, but he did." 

"Rose! How can you say that? I tried so hard to make you feel better! I took you shopping, on spa days. I gave you space when you wanted to be alone, and I tried to cheer you up! I don't know what you—“ 

"Mum. Please. Just stop. _Please_ let me get this out. There's more. Lots more." Rose stood up, and began pacing the kitchen. 

"Well get on with it, then," Jackie snapped. 

“I’d better start at the beginning." 

They moved into a cosy, small room overlooking the garden. Over the course of an hour, Rose told the story of the short, confusing, happy life of Gwen Lewis. 

"But why, Rose?" Jackie’s voice was high and strained. "I still don't understand why you had to have a new name? I get why you thought you had to leave, get away from London. I do! But trying to change who you are? Pretending to be someone other than my brilliant, brave Rose?" Jackie stammered. Her waterproof mascara was standing up to the tears, but the rest of her makeup had been wiped away with tissues long before. 

"I thought I couldn't go on — not one more day," Rose said through fresh tears. 

Jackie was silent for a moment. "Rose. Tell me, honestly. That day you fell asleep in the sauna and ended up in hospital, dehydrated with heat stroke. Were you — were you — trying to commit — “ The word stuck in Jackie’s throat. 

"No! No! I wasn't suicidal Mum, just totally and completely — _hopeless_. I was exhausted. I truly fell asleep. That was just an accident. I would never, ever do that. Ever." Rose shook her head violently. 

"C'mere, Sweetheart." Jackie motioned for Rose to sit next to her on the sofa. 

"Mum, please don't get mad at Pete. I mean… Dad. He was just trying to help." 

"You called him Dad," Jackie said softly. 

Mother pulled daughter into a sideways hug, pressing her damp cheek against Rose's. 

"I'm so sorry, Mum. I shouldn't have lied. But I did need to be away. It’s been _so_ good. I've made some good friends, and I even own my own shop." 

"Oh? What kind of a shop?" Jackie asked, sniffing, before a small smile started to build. 

“A coffee and tea shop. It’s an old newsagents place, but mainly espresso. I hardly make any money off of the papers and such. Most of the money comes from the café bit, and I make a really good cuppa. I wish you could see my shop. I'm really proud of it, actually." 

"Course your tea is brilliant. I taught you, didn't I? _Himself_ said I made the best cuppa he'd ever had. He told me that once," Jackie said, with a proud look on her face. "My tea saved his skinny little bum. Remember? Christmas Day and them aliens on that giant flying rock?" 

Rose couldn’t help but smile. 

"Hey, I know! Why don't I go back there with you? Stay for a few days? I could bring Tony!" Jackie beamed. "Tony really misses you, Sweetheart. He's never seen the shore before." 

"Um, well, you can come. I want you to come. But just not yet, all right? I want, no I need — there are some people there, good friends, who deserve to know the truth about me, Mum. First. Before my family starts showing up." 

Jackie frowned, and then nodded.

They sipped their tea in silence for a few moments, listening of the rain pelt the windows. "Why did you choose that name? It’s pretty. Gwen Lewis.” Jackie asked, curious. 

Rose looked out the window. "On my second trip with the Doctor, my first Doctor," she clarified, “we were supposed to be going to Venice, but we ended in Cardiff on Christmas Eve." 

"Oh, that man! When he wore that beat-up leather coat, he was impossible!" 

"Mum, he was the same man, whether in that wonderful leather coat, or that brown suit, you know that.” Rose defended her Doctor. "You remember I told you about the Gelth and Charles Dickens?" 

Jackie nodded. 

"Gwyneth was the name of the girl who saved us. She saved the whole Earth probably. She sacrificed herself for all of us." 

"Gwyneth." Jackie said the name. "And what about Lewis?" 

Rose laughed, this time heartily, and shook her head. "The Doctor — my second Doctor, me and him, we had this… _thing_." Rose was suddenly animated. "I was Officer Lewis, and he was the Sergeant. We had to pretend we were coppers sometimes. And there was this one time — we were trying to figure out why kids were disappearing in this neighbourhood. It was right before the 2012 London Games." Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. A wistful look took over her face. 

"So, Gwen Lewis of Broadchurch." Jackie paused. "Rose, are you planning on staying down there?" 

Rose nodded. "Yeah. At least for now.” 

"I'm sorry." Jackie looked down into the amber liquid in her mug. "I didn't see, Rose. I didn't see how sad you were. You hid it so damn well. Why didn't you tell me?" Tears again threatened. 

"I don't really know if I can answer that yet," Rose answered, quiet. "I'm scared to go back to being Rose." 

"But, Sweetheart, listen to me. Did you ever really stop being you? Or did you just change your name?" Jackie searched her daughter's eyes. 

Rose shrugged one shoulder.

"Come on, then. There's something I want you to see." 

Rose followed her mother to a part of the home that, at one time, had served as the domestic staff quarters. They ascended a steep, narrow stairwell to the top floor. Jackie opened the last door in the hallway, and switched on a single floor lamp. They stepped into a tiny room. Occasionally, lightning illuminated the room through a circular stained glass window in the gable. 

Rose scanned the small space. "I didn't know about this room. I thought the back staircase was only there as a shortcut used by the staff." 

"Oh, I found it right away, right after we got here. Me being nosy about the house and all, I wanted to explore every corner. Pete told me he used to come up here to get away from — _her_ ,” Jackie said awkwardly, “whenever they had a row." 

Rose nodded as she looked around the room. There was a well-worn leather recliner, a side table, and a floor lamp. A generic but pretty painting of a country scene hung over a tiny stone fireplace. 

Abruptly, Rose stopped her survey of the room, her eyes resting on her mother's tidy, slanted handwriting on the side of a cardboard carton. 

_Rose's Doctor Things_

"What's in that box, there?" Rose asked nervously. 

"Do you really think I would throw away the only stuff you had from the happiest years of your life?" Jackie asked. She pried open the flaps, and pulled out a photo album. 

"But I asked you to bin this stuff," Rose said quietly. She dropped down onto the plush, Persian rug, legs splayed in front of her, child-like. She stared at the item in her mother's outstretched hand. 

"Sweetheart, I know you're cross, but you were being rash. You weren't in your right mind, so I- " 

Rose shook her head, and pinched her lips together. "I'm not mad." She brought her hand to her lips and whimpered once, but then controlled her voice. "I'm not upset. Thank you. You're right. I’m glad you saved these things.” 

She had so little with her when she had been snatched out of the Void's deathly grasp: the Doctor's psychic paper, her mobile, an elastic for her hair, and a lip gloss were her only personal effects. 

The mobile had proven a treasure, holding hundreds of pictures she had taken at different points in time and space. Soon after she had arrived, in hopes of cheering her up, Mickey and Jake had secretly taken it. They had successfully downloaded the photos. They had them printed, and put the best ones into a photo album. Proudly, the two men had presented her with the pink, leather album, as well as a few framed photographs. 

The day she arrived home from the hospital after the cannon failure, she’d begged her mother to take away every item that reminded her of the Doctor: the framed photographs; the pink album; the complete works of Charles Dickens that she had bought for herself soon after her arrival; even her beloved Superphone.

Working together, Jackie and Jake had scoured Rose’s flat, her room at the mansion, and her workspace at the Tower. Anything that might bring back memories of her travels had been gathered and sealed into that box.

Rose looked up at her mother standing over her. Jackie nodded her encouragement, and nervously, Rose accepted the album. Jackie sat on the floor next to her daughter. 

"Do you remember when you were little, how we used to sit and look at our photo album together, you and me? You'd ask about your dad, and I'd tell you stories about his daft schemes." Jackie paused and saw Rose's subtle nod. "And then one day, I told you about the blonde girl who was with him, out in the street. The one with him when he died." Jackie's voice trembled. "When you told me that was you, I didn't know what to think. The Doctor did that for _you_ , Rose. You can't forget that.”

Rose blinked back fresh tears.

“Sweetheart, don't keep him in a box hidden away. He gave you so much, Sweetheart. He gave me this Pete. Without him, there would be no Tony." 

Rose leaned her head on her mother's shoulder.

"I used to hate him, you know, but I don't anymore. Haven't for a long time." 

"When did you stop?" asked Rose. 

"When I saw for certain how much you loved him. When you begged me to help you get back to him. I never woulda gone and asked to borrow that big yellow truck if I hated that daft alien." Jackie paused for a moment, opened the album, and flipped through a few pages until she found the photo of that one special Christmas dinner. "It was wrong of me to tell you to try and forget him." 

"Thank you." Rose spoke so quietly that she was nearly mouthing her words. 

"Rose, listen to me carefully. Never stop loving the Doctor. Never forget him. But please,love again. Love someone here, in this new world of ours." 

Rose pinched her lips, debating in her mind whether she should tell her mother or not. She was tired of secrets. 

"Mum, I — I met someone in Broadchurch. Someone who has helped me move forward. His name is Alec." 

Jackie did not want to shed more tears, even happy ones, so she fought them. "Then going away was the right thing, Rose." 

"He doesn't know me, though. Not the real me." Rose sighed. "He knows Gwen. He loves Gwen, not Rose." 

"No more lies, Sweetheart."

Rose cringed. "Mum, there is one more thing you need to know." She retrieved her mobile from her pocket. She thumbed the screen and pulled up a picture she had snapped at her shop commemorating her one-hundredth day of business. Alec and Ellie were both holding cups up in a salute. Alec was frowning slightly, and Ellie was grinning. 

"Rose. Is that...? No! It can't be.” Jackie gasped. 

"No, Mum. That's not the Doctor. That's Alec." Rose half smiled, tilting her head.

"Only you could find a double for the Doctor in a parallel universe," said Jackie, wide-eyed. 

"Yeah, well, he may look like him, but I promise. He’s _nothing_ like him. He's more like my first Doctor, actually," she said with a grim half smile. 

"How do you mean?" asked Jackie, unconsciously turning to a page in the album containing pictures of Rose and the tall man in black leather. 

"When I met him — Alec — he was so broken. So angry and lonely." 

"How'd you meet him, Sweetheart?" Jackie asked, trying to sound casual and hide her shock. 

"My shop, well, someone broke in. He was assigned to my case." 

"He's a copper?” she asked. 

"Yeah. A DI. The woman in the picture on my phone, she's my friend and next door neighbour, Ellie. She's a DS." 

"Rose, those are the two who solved that child murder case aren't they?" Jackie exclaimed, suddenly recognising the pair. 

"Yeah. That's them."

"I never noticed how much he looked like the Doctor. I followed that story. So tragic." Jackie clucked her tongue.

"Yeah. I know the Latimer family. Was such a horrible thing that happened. The whole town felt it really." Rose sighed. 

"Something like that, it must harden a person." 

"Yeah," Rose agreed. "Alec has changed so much since I first met him. He was a git! I couldn't _stand_ him! But he just sorta grew on me. And then we got to know each other at the shop. He's kind of awkward, but really funny and very protective. You woulda laughed if you saw my face first time I laid eyes on him." 

"Bet that was a shock." 

"Shock of my life.” Rose smiled.

The women stayed in the tiny gable room well into the night, skipping dinner. Mother and daughter both knew that forgiveness was only the beginning of healing, not the full restoration of their relationship. But the truth has a way of healing broken hearts, even if telling it hurt. 

oOo

"Rose," began Tony. His pronunciation sounded closer to ' _Woad_ '. 

"Yeah, Tone?" The little boy sneezed, and Rose handed him a tissue. "Cover your nose when you sneeze." 

"I don't like colds."

"Me either,” she replied. 

"You've been gone so long, and now you're leaving again. How come you're leaving again?" he whined. 

"Remember when I got hurt last year?" she asked.

"Yeah. You had a lot of owies. And you had to cut your hair 'cos it got all burnded off." 

"Well, after all the owies on the outside got better, I still had lots of owies inside that needed to heal." 

"You mean your broken bones right?" he asked, with an intelligent grin. 

Rose thought for a moment. "No, those had already healed. I mean the ones in here." She patted her heart. "I had a big owie because Uncle Mickey died. And Toshie and Suzie. I had a broken heart, Tony, and a heart owie sometimes takes a long time to get better.”

“Like Daddy’s heart _tank_?” 

“That’s heart _attack_. It’s hard to explain. How about this. You know when Rose the doggie ran away and didn’t come back? And you were so, so sad?”

Tony nodded.

“That’s what it feels like to have a broken heart. It’s not really your heart, it’s how you _feel_.” 

"So that's why you moved away? ‘Cos of feelings owies?” asked Tony.

Rose nodded. "Yeah. I moved someplace I thought might help my feelings owies to heal.” She Rose looked at him. 

“Where do you live?” 

"A town called Broadchurch." 

He furrowed his brows, deep in thought. "Is it very, very quiet there?" 

"Quiet? Well, I suppose it is. It's small. Much smaller than London. But the people are nice." 

"People are always nice in church. Except Mrs. McGrath. That's the lady who plays the organ. She scares me. Her face is stuck like this." He pursed his lips like he was sucking on a lemon. 

Rose laughed. "Tony, I don't live in a church, that's the name of the town." 

"Oh. So you don't have to be quiet all the time then?" 

"No. I don't have to be quiet all the time." She ruffled his strawberry blonde hair.

"That's good, 'cos it would be really hard to be quiet all the time," he said. 

"Wanna see some pictures?"

"Sure," he answered.

"I bet you'd like to visit. I live on the ocean." 

"On the ocean?"

"Yeah." 

He looked confused. "How does your house float?" 

Rose laughed, and kissed his cheek. "The town is _next_ to the ocean. There’s a beach.” She produced her mobile, and showed him photographs that she had taken over the prior months. "This is my neighbour, Ellie. She has two boys. One is just about your age. He'd love to play with you when you come and visit me." She continued to scroll through the pictures. 

"The Doctor lives in Brogchurch?" he gasped. 

"Uh," Rose chuckled, and flushed. It was a picture of Alec and Ellie, on Ellie's birthday. Rose had lit a candle, and stuck it into the sipping hole of Ellie's chocolate coffee drink of the day. "That's not the Doctor, Tone. That's my friend Alec. He's a police officer." 

Tony’s eyes grew wide. "You know a policeman!” 

"He's actually a detective inspector. Ellie is his detective sergeant. I know _all_ of the Broadchurch police officers." 

Tony's eyes were still wide with awe. "When can I come and visit you?" 

"Soon. But first you have to get better." Rose's phone emitted a ding. "I gotta go Tone, my ride is here." 

"Do you really have to go right now? Can't you stay for lunch at least? Mummy might make cheesy noodles. They're your favourite." Tony's lower lip protruded. 

"I'm sad I'm gonna miss out on lunch, then. Tell you what. When you visit me, I'll make cheesy noodles for lunch, yeah?" 

"Please don't go, Sissy!” Tony cried. "You didn't play cops and robbers with me!" 

Rose hugged her little brother. "Tony, I'm so sorry, but I really have to go. But I won't stay away so long this time, okay?" 

Tony pushed her away and angrily crossed his arms. 

"Tony, you know how Daddy talks to Mr. Jake on the computer? Maybe you and me could do that. My computer has a camera just like Daddy's, and I bet Daddy will let you talk on his computer." 

Reluctantly, the little boy nodded, then hugged his sister again. 

oOo 

The anonymous driver of the hired car opened the door of the comfortable, inconspicuous sedan. He retrieved her belongings from the boot, and placed them on a bench. Rose stepped out, thanked the driver, and offered him a tip. 

“Everything’s been taken care of, ma'am.” He held up his hand. 

As the driver pulled away, Rose pulled in a deep breath, and stood in the courtyard of the Broadchurch police headquarters. 

He was inside, waiting for her _I'm here_ text. 

This was it. The last time she would see or speak to him as Gwen Lewis. 

She typed the words into her mobile, pressed send, and waited for Alec Hardy to emerge. Rose sat next to her things on the concrete bench, wiggled her foot nervously, then stood and paced. She sat back down again, only to stand right back up and start pacing once more. 

"Gwen!" 

Rose turned towards the source of the voice. There he was. Alec. He was the man she loved. But would he still love her when all was said and done? 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**
> 
> **This chapter includes violence.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst ahoy.

Rose’s eyes darted about as he strode to her side.

"You're shivering, Gwen. Let's get you inside." 

"No, I'm fine," said Rose. Her hands trembled. 

"The wind's picked back up." Alec looked up at the sky. "Looks like we're in for another stormy night. Hope the patch job to my roof holds, or you and me are gonna get dripped on in bed." He waited for a flirtatious reply, but instead, saw a far away look in her eyes. 

"Alec, do you think you could take me back to your place so I could get my car and some things?" Rose hugged herself. 

"Of course." Alec looked at his watch. "It's half four. When did you eat last?" He bent over to pick up a box. 

"No!" she said sharply.

Alec's head snapped up. 

"I mean, sorry, but I’ll get that box.” Rose shook her head. “But would you carry my bag for me?" Rose picked up the box. She rotated the box so that black writing was pressed to her stomach. 

He picked up her satchel, and frowned. "You all right Gwen?" 

"I'm not hungry,” she whispered.

Alec stopped, and touched her shoulder. "Gwen. What's going on? Is it your stepfather? Is he okay?" 

"Yeah. He's fine. Going home. It was hard. Being back in London.” Her voice trailed off, and she looked away from him. 

"Listen, I'm gonna call Ellie and let her know I'm not coming back to the office tonight. Why don't I get you home, and get a fire going, and we'll have tea, eh?" 

Rose nodded. "Yeah. That sounds great." She gave him a weak smile. 

￼ Wordlessly, they walked to his vehicle, and then stowed her belongings. The drive to his home was just as quiet as the walk had been. Periodically, Alec looked over at the woman sitting next to him. The look on her face became more grim. 

"You sure everything is okay?" he asked again as he pulled into his driveway. 

"No." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm not all right. I'm terrified." 

He slowed to a stop and turned off the vehicle.

"Gwen, has Rowe threatened you?" he asked. 

She shook her head, and fought the tears she did not want to shed in front of him. "We need to talk." Her voice cracked.

Alec felt his stomach drop. He nodded his head. "I see."

Rose shook her head. ”No, it’s not what you think.”

“All right,” he said, frowning. 

Rose and Alec took her things into his stone cottage. Alec went into the kitchen and turned on the electric kettle, and then returned to lay the fire. Rose placed the box on the floor, and then curled into the end of the sofa. She watched while Alec lit the wood in the grate. The warmth of the fire was welcome, as steady rain now tapped against the windows. 

As soon as he was sure that the fire was strong, Alec joined her, sitting close. He put his arm around her, and drew her into his side. "I missed you," he said into her ear, his voice low and rumbling. "I thought about you all the time. Ellie called me some pretty foul names while you were gone. It seems I'm a right git without you." 

"Me too," she said, nodding. She stared into the fire. "Missed you, I mean. No bad names." 

"So what's in the box?" asked Alec, nodding at the cardboard carton at her feet. 

"I brought some things from London to show you." Absently, she tapped her thigh with her fingers. 

"You seem nervous." Alec stilled her hand, laying his hand over the top of hers. He his fingers through hers. 

“You’re right. I'm nervous." She cleared her throat. "The things in the box, they are things from my life. My old life in London. My life before Broadchurch." 

"Things that you left behind when you moved here," Alec confirmed.

"Yeah. There are pictures of me and," she paused to take a breath. "Of me and — _him_."

"James?" he asked, no jealously evident in his voice.

She nodded. "Also some pictures of my family, and some friends from my job."

"You keep pictures of your co-workers?" Alec asked with a smirk.

"Yeah. They were more like part of my family, really." Rose opened the carton and pulled out a picture in a photo frame, and then handed it to Alec.

"Fancy dress?" he asked, looking at the picture. "1950's rock 'n roll?" 

Rose nodded. "Yeah, 50's."

"You look beautiful. Do you still have the outfit?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye. 

"No. It's gone now."

"Too bad. Those stockings and shoes are brilliant."

"Thanks-" she mused.

He interrupted her from continuing by pulling her into a kiss. 

Rose wanted it to last so much longer, but she was afraid she would lose her nerve. Slowly, she pulled away, exhaling softly. She closed her eyes for a moment and pressed her lips together, committing the feel of his lips on hers to memory.

"While I was back at my parents' home in London, I had a chance to have a long talk with Mum. We've been had our differences before, but never this long. But we cleared the air, and I think we're gonna be okay." 

"I'm glad," he said, understanding the pain of a broken relationship with a child. 

"She pointed something out to me, Alec. I had gotten rid of everything that reminded me of James. Pictures, books, even movies — I hid everything away up in the attic." 

"Why would you want to get rid of it?" he asked. 

"I thought the only way to feel better was to _forget_. Now I know that I shouldn't ever forget him." Rose shook her head. "Mum showed me that it was okay to stop feeling guilty for moving on. With you." She turned and looked at Alec. "I want you to know. I _need_ you to believe me on this. I don't see you as his replacement.” 

"I didn't think I was. You already told me that I wasn't." He paused and looked at her, examining her eyes. "Did you?" he asked. 

"I think, maybe in the beginning, when I first started to realise there was something — _there_ — between you and me. I was afraid that’s what I was doing. If that makes any sense at all." She looked down. 

"I think I do, actually," he said, quirking a smile. "Thank you for telling me. And for the record, I believe you." He kissed her again, this time with ferocity. 

Rose felt guilty for accepting the beautiful kiss. She twisted her head away. "But, Alec, I haven't been truthful about other things." 

"What do you mean?" he asked, eyebrows lowered. 

She turned and faced him, looking him directly in the eyes for the first time since she had arrived back in Broadchurch. She kissed him, almost chastely, a simple slow, soft press of her lips. She turned away, and once again, stared into the fire. 

"You know that I moved to Broadchurch to make a clean break. A fresh start, cliché as it sounds." 

"Yes, I know all that," he said, confused. "People make fresh starts all the time."

"But like I said, I haven't told you everything, and while I was home, I realised just how wrong I’ve been. How selfish I've been not telling you everything.” 

"There's a difference between withholding details, and lying. You _did_ have a whole life before you moved here, and you are entitled to private memories." Alec changed the position of his hand so that now their hands were palm to palm. He soothed her hand with his thumb. 

She made a nervous, squeaking sound. "Both, Alec. I did both. I lied _and_ I didn't tell you everything, and when I say that, I mean — I lied about really, _really_ big things. Not just private things.” 

"Oh." He pursed his lips. "But you want to tell me now?" 

"Yeah. I need to. We — you and me — _we_ won't work if I don't." She almost whispered the words. "I'm not even sure where to start. On the trip back from London, I tried to come up with some sort of a plan. A way to tell you. When I tell you, Alec, you’re gonna think I'm barmy." 

"Oh, I know you're barmy. Anyone who would put up with me is a nutter for sure," he said, smiling. 

She laughed and shook her head, feeling the barest hint of relief. "First thing. My stepdad, he's Pete Tyler. The founder of Vitex." 

"Vitex." He nodded, serious. "As in Vitex-Vitex? The health drink Vitex?" 

"Yeah," she said breathily. 

Alec laughed, and shrugged. "So he's wealthy. Are you trying to keep that a secret? Are you ashamed that you have a wealthy family?" 

"Not so much ashamed. But uncomfortable, yeah. It's weird having money all of a sudden, growing up with hardly a quid in my pocket." 

"But that's not it, is it? There's more." Alec knew how to read people. 

"Dad is rich, but not as rich as you would think." She shook her head. "Not anymore. Vitex was a subsidiary of Cybus Industries." 

"The company that developed the Cybermen?" Alec leaned back and looked at her with surprise. 

"Yeah. After his first wife was killed by the Cybermen, he sold his stock and retired from running Vitex. But he’s brilliant. An inventor. And he, well, he had an idea for an organisation that would stand up against threats like the Cybermen. So he took most of his Vitex fortune, and started Torchwood." 

Alec nodded, seeing a few pieces beginning to fall into place. "So when you told me you worked for your stepfather, you meant literally — the owner of the firm?" 

She nodded, then turned to a photograph that showed her and Jake, both covered in mud. "This was the day I ran the SA confidence course and beat Jake's time." 

“SA? Army Special Ops SA?”

Rose nodded, lips pressed into a line.

“Wow, just — wow. But why? For fun?"

"This is the thing. I wasn't a secretary at Torchwood."

"Okay..." Alec stretched out the word. 

She flipped a few pages until she came across a photo of herself with six others. The members of the group were clad in black commando gear, and they looked formidable. "This is me and my team. I was a field operative. Team leader, actually." 

"What in the bloody — That's you? With that enormous gun? I don't even know what kind of a gun that is." 

"Like my gun?" she said, with a wry smile. "It doesn't shoot bullets. It's a laser rifle, and Pete designed it to take down the stray Cybermen." 

He knitted his brows together, and looked at the photo, back at her, and again at the photo. 

"Torchwood isn't an elite security firm to the rich and famous. Torchwood is now government funded, and Dad reports directly to the President. Dad's the Director, and Jake Simmonds, the bloke who picked me up, he's second in command." 

"Gwen, I don't know what to say." He examined her face, as if meeting her for the first time. 

"I didn't think you would know what to say," she said. "Hard to believe, I know. I do have a mean roundhouse kick though, don't I?" Her joke fell flat. 

He raised a single eyebrow. "So what does Torchwood actually _do_?" he asked, clearing his throat halfway through the question. 

"Right. Torchwood." Rose tapped her fingers on the armrest. "Torchwood is the first line of defence when a threat is special or _unique_." 

"Such as...?" he asked, interest piqued. 

Rose pinched her mouth and closed her eyes. Next, she had a choice. She could tell him everything, or she could withhold certain information, using their policy of secrecy as a legitimate excuse. "I can't say. It's top secret." 

Alec raised his eyebrows. "Wow. Really?"

Rose nodded. "Yeah. I have to get authorisation to talk about anything." 

"Why did you tell me this much? And show me the picture of your team? Isn't that classified?" he asked, somewhat suspiciously. 

"I got permission for that, when I was back home," she answered quietly. "I wanted you to know about this. I needed to tell you the truth." 

"I don't get it. How does a private organisation become a government funded, super secret agency?" 

Rose looked at him. "S'classified."

"So is that gonna be your standard answer now?" He grunted.

Rose frowned, and they were both quiet for a while, but he never let go of her hand.

"I wasn't in a car accident, Alec."

Alec's posture changed, as he sat up stiffly. "Oh?"

"It was an explosion. My whole team, they all died. Everyone in that picture died. All except me." 

"Why'd you tell me it was a car accident? Why didn't you just say, _'Alec, I was in an explosion,'_ or _’Alec, I was in a fire.'_ Why the lies, Gwen?" 

Rose let go of Alec's hand, beginning to feel agitated. She stood and began to pace in front of the sofa.

"Because, because,” she hesitated, “I felt responsible, and I couldn't think about what happened without being nauseated, and I couldn't go on another single day knowing my best friend was dead! That's why! So my stepdad staged a car crash. I asked him to create a whole thing. A whole history for me so I could try and live a normal life, a life like _normal_ people live. Not the life of a laser-rifle wielding commando. I didn't want to be that person anymore — that, that woman who carried that huge gun and — and — chased bad guys." She stopped for a moment and looked down at Alec. "So I invented a new life, new everything. New town, house, car, dog, bought the shop. I left everyone, everything I knew, behind. Even my name!" Rose gasped, not meaning to release her final secret so abruptly. 

"What did you just say?" Alec asked, looking at her sideways. 

"I changed my name,” she whispered.

“Say that again.”

She cleared her throat and stood taller. “I changed my name.”

“I don’t—“

"You don't understand! I _couldn't_ be me anymore. I _needed_ a new life, Alec. I _needed_ it. I _hate_ myself! I _hate_ that life!" 

"So your name isn't Gwen Lewis?" he asked stiffly.

She shook her head, and quickly batted away burning tears. 

"Go on then, tell me your name." He stood up and crossed his arms, towering over her. 

“You look like a detective.”

Alec tilted his chin down. “Tell me. Now.”

“My name's Rose. Rose Tyler." She looked up at him with pleading eyes. 

Alec turned away slowly and went to the window, and leaned on the sill. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "But my having a different name doesn't change how I feel about you. I still love you." 

He kept his back to her. "Who did I go running with? Who did I tell my secrets to? Who did I _sleep_ with?" His voice was quiet. 

"I — I —” Rose shook her head, dropped onto the sofa, and then held her head into her hands.

Alec strode to the sofa, and put his hands on his hips as he looked down at her. ” _Gwen Lewis_ listened to me. She was interested in _me_. I don't know anything about this Rose person. Are you the same person? Or was _everything_ an act?" 

"No! _Nothing_ was an act! None of it! I was truly happy living here. Real happiness, Alec! _For the first time in three years, I was happy_! And that is _all_ because of you!” She shook her head. “All you. And Broadchurch! And Ellie! And owning a shop! Making complicated tea for you _every_ morning!" 

"And what about the break-ins? Eh? Were those staged, too? To add an element of authenticity to your story? Did Stepdaddy arrange those as well?" His back was to her now, and he spoke with quiet intensity. 

"No! Of course he didn't! I didn't even tell him about it!" 

Alec turned his head, and looked at her, using only half of his vision. "You didn't tell your _own_ stepfather that you were bashed over the head and sent to the A &E? That you could have easily been killed?" 

"I didn't want him to worry. He was already so worried about me as it was. I didn't just lie to you Alec, I lied to Mum, and Jake too.“ She looked up at the ceiling. "Until Jake figured out. The point is, I lied to _everyone_ Alec." Rose squeezed her eyes shut. "And I was wrong." 

Alec ran a hand through his hair, then looked around the room, letting his eyes dart anywhere but to Rose. 

"Alec, please. Say _something_. _Anything_.”

"I need some time alone." Alec's footfall was light and quick as he made his way to his bedroom. 

He closed the door behind him, not with an angry slam, but painfully quiet and deliberate. 

With eyes closed, mouth open, and tears making streaks down her face, Rose breathed in and out raggedly. Once again, she was separated from the man she loved by a white wall. She clenched her fists a few times as tears stung her eyes. She grabbed her handbag and fumbled for her keys. She finally found them in one of the pockets of her voluminous bag. 

Tiger's ears perked up at the familiar jingling sound. Lazily, he lumbered to a stand before he stretched, and then sauntered to her side. Tears blurred Rose's eyes as she fled to her car, Tiger trotting close at her heels, everything else left behind. 

oOo 

Battling emotions surged as Alec heard Rose's sobs. Anger, hurt, and sadness fought for control of his heart as he paced his bedroom. A jingle of keys... The muffled click clacking of Tiger's toenails across the wood floor... The squeak of the hinges on his front door... Car door thud. Engine. Gravel. 

And she was gone. 

He clenched his jaw as he untied his solid blue tie and draped it across the back of the chair. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, and then rolled up his sleeves. Alec sat on the edge of his bed — and then he saw a pile of her clothes in a crumpled heap on the floor. 

Memories of emotional and physical intimacy and laughter and hesitancy and complicated tea overwhelmed him. The feeling of betrayal dominated all other emotions, and his vision started to blur as tears stung the corners of his eyes. He toed off his shoes, and they fell to the floor with a dull thud. Numbly, he removed his shirt, trousers, and pants, and turned on the shower. 

He stepped in, not caring whether the water was scalding hot or frigid. With his eyes clenched tight he let the needle-like water erase the physical evidence of his broken heart. 

Alec Hardy remained under the frigid spray until he was chilled to the bone, shivering, desperate for warmth, but knowing he would find no solace waiting when he stepped out onto the cold, hard tile. 

oOo 

Halfway home, Rose pulled into the Tesco car park, unable to stop shaking. 

It had happened. She had hoped and prayed that Alec would accept her true self - Rose Tyler - but he had rejected her. Rose pressed her forehead against the steering wheel and cried. In the back of her mind, Rose knew that time was passing, but she neither checked, nor cared. A rap on her window startled her out of her painful contemplation. 

A police officer, a regular at Zoka, was looking through her window. 

Rose looked away, and wiped her eyes with a tissue before rolling her window down. "Hey George. Late shift tonight, eh?" she asked, attempting to sound casually pleasant. 

"What are you doing out here, Gwen? It's near midnight." 

Rose had no idea she had been in that parking lot for hours. She cleared her throat. "If you can believe it, I just kipped off there for a while. I'm really tired. Ellie's gonna laugh if you tell her I fell asleep in Tesco's parking lot." 

He chuckled. "Get yourself home, Gwen. Just heard the storm has been upgraded. They expect flooding out by you and the DS. Be careful driving." He had heard rumours that Gwen and the DI were seeing each other. One of the dispatchers had seen them at the restaurant on Sunday morning, and news travelled fast. "Need an escort?" he asked protectively. 

Rose thanked him for the warning, and rolled up her window. Quickly, her smile faded, and she pointed towards home. It didn’t take long for her to reach her own neighbourhood. Silently, she thanked the officer who had bothered her, as the road below her home was beginning to flood. Orange, flashing barriers were sitting by the side of the road, ready to be moved into place. She slowed to a halt, and then put her window down for the worker who called to her. 

"I need to get home. I live about a quarter mile up." Rose pointed up the road. 

"Sorry miss, road's closed now," said the worker. 

"I really, really need to get home! See over there? The water hasn't reached that part yet. Please, you gotta let me through!" Rose begged. 

"You'll damage the undercarriage of that wee car of yours, miss."

"I don't bloody care! I _need_ to get home!" she yelled.

The man thought briefly. "Go on then." 

Rose drove over into the opposite lane, and onto the soft mud, which was on slightly higher ground. Slowly, she advanced over the tall, unkempt weeds. She heard scraping, but was beyond caring. Rose needed to be in her own home, and in her own bed. 

She pulled into her drive, parked, and then wearily got out of her car. Tiger followed her up the steps and leaned against her side. He panted as she unlocked her front door. Rose frowned. She didn’t remember leaving the kitchen light on when she’d left for London. She flipped the switch to illuminate her lounge. 

Rose gasped, and then dropped her purse and keys. Her home was in shambles. Furniture cushions were cut open and stuffing pulled out. The bookcase was on its side, her books on the floor. Immediately, she pulled her mobile from her coat pocket, and pressed speed dial one: Alec. 

"Please answer, please, please, please,” she said. But then she heard his greeting: _”This is Hardy. Leave a message."_

"Shit!" she swore out loud at the sound of his voice on the answer-phone. "Alec! My house! Someone's broken in and-" 

From around the corner, rough hands grabbed her, and covered her mouth. She screamed, but the sound was muffled.

"Scream again, and you're dead. Drop your mobile." 

Rose complied. Tiger came to her side and growled at the attacker. The man kicked him away, and Tiger bolted through the open front door, and out into the darkness. 

The intruder crushed the touchscreen with the heel of his work boot. Quickly, he removed his hand from her mouth, and wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling her in a stranglehold. He tugged her tightly to himself, then used his foot to slam the door and flip the deadbolt. 

Rose felt something hard and metal digging into her back. She set aside all grief, and let her Torchwood training supersede all emotion. From now on, every action would be calculated. Every word, purposeful. 

"Do you know who I am?" he asked with a sneer in his voice. 

Of course she knew who he was. _Marcus Rowe,_ she thought. She could smell stale cigarettes and liquor on his breath. Her best tactic would be to feign weakness, keeping the element of surprise on her side. 

She squeaked a negative reply. "Can't see your face." 

“Marcus Rowe, at your service, and I'm someone out of your nightmares, that's who I am. Now we can do this easy, or hard. Where is my money, you little bitch?" he hissed in her ear. 

“I have no idea where your money is. Wish I could find it, ‘cos you scare me!” _I need to buy time._ Rose composed herself. "The police told me you were looking for money. I've looked. I've looked _everywhere_! So have the coppers! I'm telling you, that money, it isn't in my shop! You're looking in the wrong place!" she sobbed. 

"I don't believe you." Rowe grunted, and tightened his chokehold. "Now tell me where Donny hid my fifty grand, or I'll cut you just like I cut him," he shouted in her ear. 

She now knew that the sharp object against her back was a blade. 

_Oh gods, Rowe has nothing to lose. He just admitted to murdering Donald Jones!_ Rose thought. "Who's Donny? I don't know any Donny!" she cried. 

"Donald Jones, you slag! What are you? Stupid? You bought your shop from him!" He called her another foul name, and pressed the flat side of the knife firmly into her back. 

Rose could feel the sharp tip next to her spinal column. "If I'd found the money, don't you think I woulda turned it over to the cops by now?" 

Rowe pushed the flat edge harder, and the tip pierced Rose's skin through her shirt. 

"Please! Don't hurt me! Please!" Rose begged, forcing herself to sound terrified.

"This is what we're going to do. You're going to take me to your shop, and you’re gonna punch the code into that new expensive security system of yours so your copper boyfriend doesn't come running. And then you and me, we're gonna search the place if it takes all night." 

_He knows about Alec!_ she shouted in her mind. "You — you've been watching me?" 

"Yeah. Pretty little thing, you are. Seen you running on the beach, with that tight arse and bouncing tits. Been waiting for you to come home. Did you have a nice holiday, luv?" 

"Shut it," she squeaked. Over the sound of the wind and rain, she could hear Tiger barking. 

"You do what I say, and I won't hurt you. We'll take your car." 

"We can't. The road's blocked. They weren't even gonna let me through 'cos of the flood." 

"We'll walk." 

"But it's _flooded_. You don't understand!” she exclaimed. 

"Then we’ll just have to get wet,” Rowe shouted. 

Rose winced as the man again pressed the side of the knife firmly against her back.

“The rain’s stopped. Let’s get hiking.” With his arm around her neck, Marcus Rowe dragged Rose towards the front door.

Rose dragged her feet against his pull.

“Get going!” Rowe screamed.

And then Rose heard the usually-irritating squeak of Ellie's screen door slamming shut. 

_I’m gonna be okay,_ she said to herself, almost shouting. "You— you can't drag me all the way," Rose protested as she struggled against his tugging. "I — I won't run away. I promise. Tie my hands or something." 

"Not so stupid, then, are ya?" 

"I know when I've been beat," she said meekly, letting her head drop against his arm. "I have some twine in one of the kitchen drawers." 

Rowe dragged her into the kitchen. "Show me." 

"Top drawer to the right of the cooker." 

Keeping her in the choke hold, he dragged her next to the stove. He released her neck, but kept his knife at her back, cutting her a third time. Rose's shirt now stuck to her skin as the blood wept from the stinging wounds. 

"Hands behind your back." 

Rose winced as Rowe wound the twine around her wrists in a figure-eight, multiple times. Her hands would be numb soon. The knots were tight.

"Let's go," he ordered. 

"But wait." _More time… more time… Ellie’s coming._ "My shoes. I'll never make it there in these things. I'll slow you down in these shoes." 

Rowe swore. "Bloody women and their bloody shoes." He grabbed Rose's arm and pushed her roughly into the bedroom. "Kick those off and put on something else." 

"Can I use the loo?" Rose asked. "It was a long trip. Drove all the way from London without stopping." 

"Stop stalling, bitch, or I'll cut your face," he shouted. 

Rose shuddered. She wasn’t afraid of being disfigured, but she was afraid of losing her wits. _I’ve got to keep him talking._ ”Do you have any idea what you're looking for, even?" she asked as she struggled to push her foot into a pair of laceless trainers. 

"The idiot sent himself a package." 

Rose halted for a moment as it dawned on her. _Bagpipers Quarterly! The mystery box!_ Deliberately, she lost her balance whilst attempting to put on the shoes. 

Rowe kicked her in the back. "Get a move on!" 

"You try and put on shoes without your hands!" she screeched as she righted herself, turning to face the window. From this position, she could see Ellie's kitchen. She could barely make out the silhouette of her friend, backlit by the hall light. She pressed her lips together as she successfully pushed her right foot into its shoe. 

"Loo! Please!” Rose begged. "Look for yourself, the window doesn't even open. There's no way for me to escape." 

Rowe dragged her into the en suite, took a peek, and slammed the door behind her. 

For authenticity, Rose relieved herself, thankful she was wearing a skirt. She looked around the small room for anything she could use. There was no way to open the medicine cabinet and get scissors or nail clippers. She groaned, and then cleaned herself and flushed the toilet with her foot. 

"I can't open the door," she called out, lying. She could have easily turned the knob with either hand. 

Rowe opened it, and pulled her out by the arm. He dragged her into the main part of the home, but then he stopped.

"Coppers!" he hissed, hearing the recognisable two tone sound of police sirens approaching. Soon, white strobes, and the blue lights from several police vehicles were illuminating of the walls of Rose's front room. 

He dragged her to the front window to get a better view. The bright lights inside of her home provided a picture window view inside for the police officers who were assembling in her front yard. Rose saw Ellie barking into her mobile, and giving orders to the uniformed officers. 

"How'd the coppers get here?" he screamed. "You said the road's flooded!" His face was red, and the veins in his neck were bulging. 

"I — I don't know! It _is_ flooded!" she said, honestly confused.

He yanked her away from the window, and then pushed her onto the floor. "Stay out of the window!” he shouted, pointing down at her. 

Rose scooted on her bottom until her back was against the front wall. She worked on loosening the bindings around her wrists, using the rough plaster on the wall to fray the kitchen twine. 

"Come on out, Marcus Rowe.”

Rose audibly barked a laugh as she heard Alec's voice amplified by a megaphone. "You're gonna pay for this, bitch!" Rowe screamed, looking down at her. 

"Marcus," Alec said casually, "you know that you are in an untenable position. You're cornered. Stuck. There are officers round back, and on the sides. There is _nothing_ to gain by hurting Ms. Lewis. Let her go." He paused. "Be a man, Marcus. Don’t you think using a girl as a human shield — and a small, helpless one at that - is rather cowardly?” 

Rose laughed, thinking how she might smack him sideways for what he had just said, but she knew Alec was banking on Rowe's pride. 

“No one laughs at me!” Rowe howled. 

He fisted a tuft of Rose’s short hair and yanked her to her feet. Tugging her back into him, he flicked open his blade, and sliced her cheek before throwing her at the wall. 

Rose collapsed into a heap. Her heart thudded. Her tongue flicked out, catching the coppery tang of blood trickling into her mouth. The wounds on her cheek and back stung and throbbed. Measuring her breath — in and out, in and out — she calmed herself. 

She willed the muscles in her legs and arms to remember years of training. How it felt to be strong and powerful, how to win the battle with pain.

With all her might, she hurled herself to her feet. With a grunt, she pulled against the weakened twine. The cotton strands dug into her wrists as she felt the string snap. 

She howled as she stomped on his left foot, and thrust her elbow into his solar plexus. 

He hollered and doubled over. Rose spun around, her leg outstretched like a battering ram. It only took a single blow — squarely at the base of his spine — to knock his feet out from under him. 

Rose turned, shielding herself from the flying shards of glass sent in all directions as he crashed through the front window into the bed of daisies below. Within seconds, three officers had tackled and cuffed him. 

Rose staggered to the sofa and dropped onto a slashed cushion. She heard the sound of a key turning the lock in her front door. Alec's recognisable footfall echoed in the room, unnaturally loud. The cushion next to her dipped as he sat down. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. Alec remained stiff until Rose released her arms, and pulled back. 

"I need to get a medic in here to look at that cut on your face," he said cooly. 

Rose touched the gash absently then cleared her throat. "My back, too," she said quietly. She turned and partially lifted her bloodied shirt exposing her wounds. 

Alec closely examined the cuts, but he didn’t touch her. "You're lucky. He just grazed you. I don't think you'll be needing stitches." 

"Probably gonna need a tetanus shot, though. Who knows where that blade's been." She tried to smile, but failed. 

"He didn't... _touch_ you, did he?" Alec's concern was genuine.

She shook her head. "No." Rose looked deeply into his eyes, and for a moment, his eyes softened. 

Footsteps on Rose's front porch stole his attention away. 

Ellie hurried inside, and quickly sat next to her friend. "Bloody hell! Who taught you self defence? Army Special Forces?" Ellie looked at her friend like she was seeing a ghost. 

Stonily, he turned away from Rose. "I have to go. It would be best if I interview Rowe right away." Alec stood without looking at either Rose or Ellie. "Make sure her injuries are seen to, Baker." 

"Alec." Rose whispered his name.

He halted and looked back over his shoulder at Rose, but left without a word. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsty McAngst... and the aftermath of the attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

It was nearly half-past midnight, and the rain was falling hard, but not as thickly as it had been an hour before. A few neighbours still huddled under umbrellas, but away from the emergency vehicles. Yet another emergency vehicle arrived -- an ambulance. The red and white strobe lights reflected in the windows of the cars, trucks, and neighbouring homes. 

Hardy stood within earshot of a group of grey-haired neighbours. 

"Oh that poor young lady. I didn't know her too well," one of the women stage-whispered.

"Well I doubt she's _dead_ , Agatha. They wouldn't have risked sending an ambulance through the flooded road, but she just be hurt rather badly." 

Alec set clenched his jaw and watched as a paramedic gathered her gear to head inside the house. He crossed his arms and looked sideways at the women, listening to their gossip.

"You know what I heard down at the beauty shop?" asked the second woman. 

The first woman raised her eyebrows. 

The second leaned in closely, casting a glance over at the Inspector. "That Miss Lewis is Inspector Hardy's _special_ lady friend," she said with a nod and knowing look. 

Alec bristled.

"Edna saw them having brunch at the Fog Horn, Sunday last. They were very cosy." 

"Oh, now _that's_ interesting. Bit Spring and Autumn, isn't it," the first judged. 

"A bit too nice for the likes of him, I say. You been to her little shop? It's lovely. Wouldn't know it from the outside, but she's done a right nice job of brightening up the place. Makes the best cuppa I've had in years," she chirped.

Alec approached the women.

"Oh, here's our Inspector now. Inspector Hardy, is our sweet Miss Lewis alright? We are _so_ worried about her!" asked Rose's neighbour-to-the-north. 

"Ms. Lewis is being attended to," he said evenly. He neither broke his stride nor looked at the women as he passed them. 

"Hardy!" 

Alec turned, and saw Ellie striding towards him, shielded from the rain by a black umbrella. 

"What?" he barked. He turned around, one hand on his hip. His raincoat was unbuttoned, his soaked shirt clung to his chest, and his hair was plastered to his head.

"What do you think I mean? _'What?'_ he says," Ellie mimicked. She pulled him by his arm him away from the eavesdroppers. "Gwen, you... I'm not going to say it. I'm not going to say it."

"I don't suppose you were about to call me, Sir?" Alec snarled.

Ellie's face contorted. "You just _left_ her in there!" she hissed, and then pointed back at Rose's house. "She was attacked! And you just left her there!"

"Go with her to A&E and take her statement," Alec ordered. "And I want plenty of photographs of her injuries. And then-" 

"Alec," Ellie warned. "I do know what I am doing, and I know you're worried about her, but stop being a prat. Why are you in such a snit?" Ellie clenched the fist not holding her umbrella. 

￼ Alec crossed his arms had looked away for a few heartbeats. He pursed his lips. "Ask her. She's the one with all the answers." Alec left a confused Ellie to join a group of uniformed officers. 

Ellie returned inside to find a medic cleaning the cut on Rose's face. Rose winced as the antiseptic was applied. 

"Hold on, Bridget. Before you cover that cut, I need to snap some pics for the file." 

"Ellie, she doesn't want to go to hospital."

"You need to go, Gwen," Ellie squeezed Rose's arm. 

She pulled out her mobile, the paramedic stepped away, and Ellie took a few photographs of Rose's face. 

"My back, too," said Rose absently. She turned so her back was facing Ellie, and she removed her blood-stained shirt. 

"Oh gods, Gwen," Ellie began sympathetically. "You really do need to go to A&E." 

"No, I'm fine," countered Rose blankly. 

" _You are going to A &E,"_ Ellie argued as she took several photos of the still-bleeding lacerations. 

"Honestly, Ellie, I'm okay," said Rose quietly. "I'd rather see my own doctor tomorrow. It's just a few cuts. Nothing I haven't had before." 

"Gwen..." Ellie said in an admonishing tone. 

"Please." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Please Ellie. I can't go to hospital again. Please," Rose implored. 

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I am going to have to insist that you go to A&E. Your neck is starting to swell," observed the paramedic. 

"Yeah, well that does tend to happen when one is put in a chokehold," said Rose snidely. 

"Okay then. I've heard enough. If you don't agree to get into that bloody ambulance, Gwen, I'll have you cuffed and have Hardy carry-" 

"Fine," Rose snapped. 

Ellie furrowed her brow. "I've got the pics I need, Bridget. I'll ride along. Gwen, I need to take your statement. It'd be best to do it tonight." 

Rose sighed, then nodded. "Ellie, could you get me my hoodie? It's hanging in my wardrobe. I don't fancy walking out there in my bra. I'm sure the neighbours are enjoying the show enough as it is." 

"Sure." Ellie left to retrieve the item from Rose's bedroom. 

The paramedic quickly cleaned the lacerations on her back, and covered them with gauze. Ellie emerged with a handful of clothing, including the hoodie. 

"Done," said the paramedic before she cleaned up the torn wrappers and packed her supplies. "Can you walk, or do you want to be carried out on a stretcher?" 

"I'll walk," Rose whispered.

oOo

By the time Rose arrived at A&E it was nearing one-thirty in the morning. The same physician who had treated her the night she was attacked by Marcus Rowe's brother saw her. "You, Ms. Lewis, are a trouble magnet," Dr. Solomon said with a half smile.

"So I've been told," Rose replied, wincing a bit from the sound of her now-former name. 

"I'm going to have to keep you overnight because of the contusions on your neck. If the tissue were to swell any further, which is possible though unlikely, you would be at risk for asphyxiation, and we would need to intubate. You will be monitored closely, but I honestly don't think that is going to be necessary, so don't worry. You're lucky he didn't crush your windpipe. Those bruises around your neck are going to be ugly." 

"Not the best night of my life," Rose replied quietly. Her voice was now hoarse from both injury and exhaustion. 

"You have two cracked ribs, but there is no risk of a collapsed lung." 

"He kicked me in the back," she explained quietly. 

Dr. Solomon nodded, frowning. "Those cuts your back are relatively superficial, but I've put butterfly bandages on them anyway. They don't need sutures. Now, about that laceration on your face. I think you will want to seen a plastic surgeon, at least for a consultation, to minimise scarring." 

Rose nodded, but her face remained emotionally unreadable. 

"You'll be taken up to a room in a bit, and I'll be up to check on you later." He patted Rose on the shoulder, pulled the curtain aside, and left. 

Rose lay on the gurney and stared at the ceiling tiles. The muscle relaxant that had been administered through her IV was making her drowsy, so she closed her eyes. She heard Ellie's voice, footfall, and then the sound of metal sliding on metal as Ellie drew the curtain aside. Rose half opened her eyes. 

"Hey there, sweetheart. You feeling okay?" asked Ellie, as she slowly lowered herself down on the plastic chair. 

"Must've been adrenaline before, 'cos I wasn't feeling any pain. My back and neck are killing me. Two cracked ribs." 

"Oh, sorry," Ellie said, cringing. "Cracked ribs. Ouch. And there's nothing they can do to speed it along. Nothing to do but wait. I slipped on ice about ten years ago, cracked a couple." 

Rose nodded as Ellie made small talk. 

"I really hate to say this, but I need to take your statement," Ellie apologised. 

"Sure. I understand." She cleared her throat, and began. 

Ellie scribbled notes as Rose spoke. 

"I pretended to be weak, and even sorta let him knock me about a bit. I figured if he believed he was in control, I could stall him, come up with a plan."

"How'd you get your wrists untied?" Ellie asked.

"When he threw me against the wall, I rubbed the string on the plaster. Frayed it enough so I could break the ties." Rose looked down at her bandaged wrists.

The detective shook her head. "Gwen, you're pretty amazing."

Rose shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. "I think I figured out where the money is. Rowe told me that Donnie sent it to himself. I think it's in a box of magazines that were special ordered. I never though to open the box. It's back in the storage room, up on the top shelf. Box says _Bagpiper's Quarterly._ "

"Why didn't anyone open it?" Ellie frowned. 

"'Cos I'm stupid. I looked in every single box, but I believed that dumb story that someone actually ordered every back issue of a bagpiping magazine." Rose clucked her tongue.

"Stop beating yourself up. Tomorrow we'll check it out, and to get that money out of your shop. If that's truly what's in that box," Ellie said. 

"I wanna come. Find out for myself. They're only keeping me overnight," Rose said, voice shaking. "Just as soon as I get outta here, we'll go. I want that box gone." 

"Hey," Ellie put her hand on Rose's arm. "Gwen. You're safe. It's over. You're gonna be okay. We have Rowe in custody. He's down the hall."

Rose frowned. 

"There is no way he's getting away, Gwen. His arms and legs are handcuffed to the bed, and they're very slowly picking out shards of glass. Two uniformed officers are in the room, and two outside. And Hardy is there, too. And there is no way that Rowe will get past _him_." 

Rose nodded, still frowning. 

"He's going away for a long time. Probably life in prison," Ellie added. She squeezed Rose's hand. 

"Ellie? How'd you know? How could you tell something was wrong?" Rose asked. 

"I didn't. I was fast asleep. Alec called me. Told me you left a message. Why didn't you call 999?" asked Ellie. 

"I pressed Alec's speed dial on my phone," Rose said, her voice flat. "Alec's home phone number." 

"Gwen, did you and Alec have a row or something?" Ellie asked. "Both of you are acting weird." 

Rose covered her face into her hands and nodded her head, then dragged her hands down her face. 

"What? You make his tea too strong?" Ellie teased. 

Rose shook her head. "I wish it were that simple. I've hurt Alec horribly, and I don't think he can forgive me," eyes now glistening. 

"Gwen, what could you have possibly done to hurt him that badly?" She drew in a deep breath. "You didn't try and contact his daughter or something, did you?" 

"No! I'd never do that. No." Rose adjusted her position. "I told him something about me. About why I came to Broadchurch, and he just can't accept it." 

"I am so sorry," Ellie said compassionately. "Maybe -- do you think -- perhaps you both moved a little too fast?" she asked, concerned. "The two of you being --" Ellie cleared her throat. "You were intimate very quickly." 

"Alec told you?" asked Rose, both surprised and displeased.

"No, didn't come right out and say it. He let something slip. Said he knew you didn't have any scars _anywhere_."

"Oh." Rose's voice was flat.

"So I asked, and he didn't deny it. It was rude of me to ask, but I was nosy." Ellie sighed.

"Well you guessed right." Rose draped her arm across her face. "Maybe we did go to fast. Probably, yeah." Rose shook her head. "But Ellie, it just felt so good to be _wanted and needed_ and --" She paused. "I think we were both wanted to feel something _real_ , Ellie." 

"I'm sure you two will work it out. You are obviously good for each other," she said with a smile. 

Rose shook her head. "I honesty don't know if that's gonna happen. I did something horrible back in London. And I lied over and over and over. And tonight, I told him about it. I came clean. I couldn't keep lying anymore. He had to know." She paused. "You have to know. 

"Gwen, what happened?" Ellie asked, now worried.

"Oh Ellie, I have made a huge mess of things. I don't even know where to start." Rose covered her face with her hands again. "I lied. I lied about everything." 

"What do you mean?" Ellie asked.

Rose revealed her face, but her eyes were shut. She inhaled, held her breath, and then released it slowly. "Ellie, my name isn't Gwen Lewis, it's Rose Tyler, and I used to be in special ops for a secret government agency." She opened her eyes, and held her breath expectantly. "That's why I have a wicked roundhouse." She barked a laugh.

"You're shitting me, right? Did Rowe hit you on the head?" "No. I'm not lying," replied Rose quietly. 

Ellie knitted her brows together. She crossed her arms. "Go on then. Tell me. Tell all about this secret life of yours," she said sarcastically. 

"I wasn't in a crash. I was in an explosion. It happened during a top secret --" Rose swallowed hard. "-- mission. My entire team died. Everyone. I _was_ in a coma for a month. And I _was_ hurt really bad. I almost died. A few times. And when I came out of that coma, I just couldn't cope. I tried Ellie, I really did. My stepdad has -- connections. So he helped me start over." Rose shrugged.

"And what evidence do you have to prove any of this shite?"

"When I was home in London, my mum gave me a box of things she'd been keeping for me. Pictures and stuff. I brought them back with me, and showed them to Alec. For what it's worth, Alec believed me."

Ellie frowned.

"My stepdad can write you an affidavit, it that's what you need. Official government seal and everything," Rose grumbled. "Or you could just believe me. Did Alec show you the accident video?"

"Yeah."

"That was staged. My stepdad set it all up." Rose looked at the ceiling.

"Well, he buggered it up. Alec watched it over and over. Thought something was off about it."

"Huh?" Rose asked, frowning.

"In the first bit, we can see your face. And there's one brand of tyre on the SUV. After you speed up, there's a different brand." Ellie rubbed her eyes.

"Oh," said Rose. "Oops."

"So let's say I do believe you," Ellie crossed her arms. "Then I'm furious at you! Rose Tyler!" Ellie pointed at her, before she made a grunt of frustration. "And for what it's worth, I do believe you. For now. Oh bloody hell, I suppose understand you, too," she said irritably. 

Ellie continued. "Do you know how many times I wanted to run off last year? Start a new life? Get bloody plastic surgery to change my face?" She pursed her lips and looked away, barking an angry laugh. "So I completely understand why you did this! But I am still mad at you!" Ellie threw her arms around Rose's neck. 

Rose winced in pain, and Ellie apologised. She crossed her arms again and returned to her seat. "You're still my friend," she said, pointing at Rose. "But I'm mad." 

"I'm mad at myself," Rose said quietly. "I was being very selfish. I've _always_ been selfish." Rose closed her eyes and recalled her memory of the Doctor in leather, coming back to ask her a second time. Turning her back on Mickey without hesitation. Running into a virtual stranger's magic, blue box.

"Oh stop beating yourself up. It's done, and you've told us, and now you're gonna have to make it right," Ellie ordered.

"I'm so tired Ellie," said Rose, rubbing her temple with one hand. "I need sleep." 

Ellie stood slowly and looked down at her friend. "Rose. That's a nice name. It suits you. I'll come see you in the morning." 

"I'm so sorry, Ellie. I never meant to hurt anyone, but it seems like that's all I've done." 

Rose closed her eyes, and heard the swish of fabric as Ellie left.

"Baker." 

Rose opened her eyes, hearing Alec's voice.

"Sir." Ellie's voice was terse.

"Did you get her statement?" 

"Do you mean Gwen's statement? Or Rose Tyler's?" Ellie asked.

Alec made a short hissing sound through his teeth. "So she told you, then." 

"Yes, she did," said Ellie. 

"You believe her, don't you?" Alec asked.

"Yeah. I suppose I do."

"Alec? Is that you?" Rose called sleepily. 

Rose heard Alec pull in a deep breath, and the sound of his hand tapping. 

"Can't talk now," he said. 

Rose sat up, groaned, and then swung her legs off of the bed and onto the cold, tile floor. She grasped the wheeled IV stand, and pushed through the curtain gap. "Alec. _Please._ " 

"I'm glad you're all right." He didn't look directly at Rose. "Baker, I'll see you at the station in a few hours." He left, head hanging slightly as he briskly walked down the corridor. 

Rose shuffled back to her bed. With a groan, she climbed in, turned on her side, and faced the wall. 

Ellie followed, pulling the curtain aside. "Rose?" 

Rose didn't answer.

oOo 

Rose woke up in a hospital room. She pressed the call button, and soon a nurse came in. 

"Oh good, you're awake. How you feeling, honey?" asked a nurse with a kind face.

"Like I was kicked in the back, stabbed and choked.” Rose’s voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat, and reached for the cup of water. ”Has anyone come by?" 

"Mmm hmm. Dr. Solomon came in while you were sleeping. He assessed you and said you were free to go. So anytime you want to leave." The nurse smiled. "Gimme your arm, and I'll get that IV out." 

Rose extended her arm so that the nurse could do her work. The wall clock indicated it was just after eleven in the morning. 

"So nice to see the sun shining. Seems like it's been weeks," the nurse said conversationally. She carefully peeled the adhesive bandage that was holding the needle in place. 

Rose winced as the bandage tugged her skin. "So no one from the police came? You know, to check on me?" Rose asked, trying to sound as uninterested as she could. 

"No, but that reminds me. DS Baker left a message. She wants you to call her." 

"Thanks," Rose replied, smiling wanly. 

"And good for you, Ms. Lewis," the nurse said proudly. "That bloke that broke into your house? You kicked his bum sideways. It's the talk of the staff this morning. Course, the A&E didn't give him the good drugs, not like what we gave you," she said with a naughty wink. "I hope he's in jail, feeling every bruise and broken bone you gave him." 

Rose nodded.

"You should teach self-defence classes at the community centre. The coppers who brought Rowe in we pretty impressed. They said the DI was speechless." The woman's communication badge beeped. "Oh, gotta go." 

Tears pricked the corners of Rose's eyes. 

oOo 

Rose pressed a series of numbers and letters. The flashing red light on the keypad switched from red to green.

“The box is up on the highest shelf in the storage room.” Rose walked gingerly towards the back of the shop.

“Hold on. Can’t do anything until SOCO arrives. They have to bag it. It will be opened at the station,” explained Ellie. 

Rose headed to the espresso machine. “Coffee?”

“Tell me you’re not opening today.” Ellie grimaced.

"No," Rose answered. "I don't wanna be here right now. Can I make you a cuppa? I know I could use one." 

"Sure. Surprise me," Ellie said. "Lots of chocolate. Lots." 

Rose smiled gently. "You know, you haven't called me by name once. Either Gwen or Rose." She went about the business of preparing the espresso machine. 

Ellie leaned on the counter. "Honestly, you can't blame me, can you? All of that stuff you told me? It was sorta like getting kicked in the stomach." 

Rose nodded. "I suppose I should be grateful that you're even talking to me at all. More than I can say for Alec. He won't even look at me." Rose pulled two shots of espresso, her hands shaking. "I should never have expected him to understand.” 

“Well after finding that tyre bit in the accident video, I'm sure your news on top of that was -“ 

“He investigated me?” Rose tried to shriek, but words came out hoarse and cracked.

"Not so much investigating as —“ Ellie rubbed her tired eyes. "This is the thing. Last week, you told him about your accident. Correction." Ellie smirked. "The fake accident that your father planted." 

Rose winced. 

"So you told him about the accident on your date last Friday. So what does he do? First thing Saturday morning, he goes into the station and pulls up the report. He needed to know that your case was handled properly." 

"That's investigating," Rose muttered.

“Come on, he's a detective. What'd you expect?" Ellie replied defensively. 

"Not to have the man I snogged the night before to run a background check on me! That's for sure!" Rose replied angrily. 

"That is _not_ how it was! I saw the footage! I saw it! If that was real, you should've been dead! And he couldn't accept that! I told him to be thankful for the miracle that it was and — and — to move on with you. But he couldn't leave it be. He watched it over and over and finally he showed it to SOCO Brian, who found an inconsistency." 

Rose frowned as she finished preparing Ellie's triple shot mocha cappuccino. "I'm listening." Out of habit, Rose finished the drink by creating a design in the foam, a flower. She pushes the large, white, ceramic mug across the counter and started on her own tea. 

"One minute there was one brand of tire on your SUV, and the next second, there was a different brand." 

Rose set down the small, ceramic teapot she was holding. "I remember the day I got that flat. I'd been chasing —“ She stopped herself. "I can't say what I was doing. It's classified. But I lost the _person_ I was tailing because of that stupid flat. Dad must've cobbled together footage from before and after,” she said quietly. 

"He must love you an awful lot to have done that for you, your stepdad." 

Rose nodded. "He called us his second chance family, Ellie," she said, voice quivering. “My mum, she looked so much like his first wife, but they were completely different. I met her once, his first wife — when I was with James. It was James who introduced Mum to Pete.” 

“Who’s James?” Ellie asked.

Rose’s head snapped up. “I, um — see? I’m forgetting who knows what. Who knows the truth, and who doesn’t. Alec knows about him. James was someone I loved a long time ago. Someone I lost.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Oh,” Ellie said softly. “SOCO’s here. You go sit down and rest. I’ll take care of this.” 

oOo 

The gaping hole that had been Rose’s front window was covered with a single large sheet of plywood. Rose unlocked her door, and was greeted by Tiger. The room had been picked up and the broken glass, swept away. The furniture had been righted, and the books put back on the shelves. The cushions were in place, turned over so that the slashes weren’t visible. 

"It looks almost normal," said Rose. "Someone picked up the mess."

Ellie nodded. "Some of the officers stayed back and cleaned it up for you." 

In the basket on the console table by the front door was single key on a ball chain. A smiley-face fob was attached. Rose picked up the key and fiddled with it for a moment before pushing it into her pocket. “Alec gave my key back.” 

Ellie put her hand on Rose’s shoulder. "He said he didn't want to go through your personal things, so they're still at his house. But he did bring over one box." 

Rose nodded, and closed her eyes, the sting of tears, threatening. But this time, she gave in and let the tears stream down her face. "All I wanted was some relief from the pain, Ellie. That's all. When I came here, I didn't expect to fall in love. I never expected that to ever happen again. _Never ever_. I thought I didn't deserve it, and now I _know_ I don't." 

Ellie found a box of tissues and pulled out a wad. She handed them to Rose, and then put her arm around Rose's shuddering shoulders. She guided her to the sofa. 

"Bring me the box, would you?" Rose asked, sniffing, controlling her emotions once again. "I brought this stuff back with me from London. I thought it would help him understand why I did what I did." Rose reached into the box, and carefully selected a few framed photographs, leaving the albums and pictures inside, which told the rest of the story. 

She showed Ellie the picture of her team, and told her the story of their deaths, just as she had told Alec. "Mickey and me, we were best mates. We even dated for a while. Until I met James." 

Rose handed her friend a stack of framed photos. 

Ellie sucked in a breath as she looked at the first photograph of the man in a long, brown coat. He wore a paper crown and had his arm draped around a much younger and less polished Rose. As Ellie looked through the stack, she continued to pull in breaths of disbelief. The final picture was of Rose and the doppelgänger standing in front of a weathered, blue police box, somewhere in London. 

He wore glasses. Her hair was shorter than the other photos. 

She wore an aqua blue cardigan. 

He had great hair. 

Together, they made a stunning couple, with matching, beaming smiles. 

"I don't know what to say." Ellie looked through photos one more time, and then handed them back to Rose. "They could be twins. Alec looks more haggard, but other than that, they're the same." 

"That day when I was in the A&E hospital, the first day I met him, I looked up from that bed and saw the face of the man that I loved more than anyone in the whole universe. First I thought it was some sort of a miracle. Then I thought I was truly mad. And then I realised the truth." Rose stared at the stack of photos in her hands, and then she touched the image of her Doctor. 

"I told him. Alec. I told him about James well before he asked me to dinner, Ellie. He knew," said Rose in a higher voice, shrugging. "He knew that he shared James' face. I told as much truth as I could. As much as I could _allow_ myself to tell without completely breaking down. And then I told him everything. I told him before he ever asked. I'm sure, knowing him, he would have continued to investigate, and he would have found something else besides the accident. But I told him _before_. 

“Don't you see, Ellie? I tried." Rose’s voice broke. "The first moment I was emotionally and mentally able to tell him, I did." She reached for another tissue. "And he rejected me. The real me. Just like I _knew_ he would. Because I was right in the first place. What I did, what I did to my team — I don't deserve to be happy." 

"Don't say that, Rose. Please. Don't you ever believe that! No!" Ellie put her arms around her friend and rocked her until her crying ceased. 

oOo 

Ellie sat at her desk, and blew across the cup of tea she was holding. Her eyes had bags underneath. She was going to try to leave on time to see Tom's football match and give the nanny some relief. The nanny had been with her boys since the morning of the day before. 

She also needed to check on Gwen. No, _Rose_. She hadn’t called as promised. 

"Baker, I need you," bellowed Alec from behind his private walls.

Ellie pushed herself away from her desk and dragged herself into Alec's office. "Yeah, what do you need?" Ellie sat down without being asked. 

"She was right. The box was filled with cash."

"You can't even say her name.” Ellie stated. 

He ignored Ellie's comment. "Over £52,000. Traces of cocaine, heroin, and crack on the notes. There was also a list of names. I'm having everyone on the list checked." 

"Shit, Hardy, you can be such a knob. Stop ignoring Rose!" 

Alec looked at Ellie. "This is none of your business, Ellie. Stay out of it." His words were even and cool. 

"Did you ever stop to think that Rose needs _you_? Stop thinking about yourself! She was in so much _agony_ that she gave up her whole life!" 

"Close the door, Ellie," he ordered, quietly firm. 

Ellie slammed the door, and then closed his mini blinds. "She came here after that explosion to find _peace_. She blames _herself_ for that too, did you know that? And you know what else she told me? That she never expected to fall in love again. Ever. For the rest of her _life_. And then along _you_ come along, looking _exactly_ like the man she loved and lost. How do you think that made her feel? 

“And _then_ , she goes and falls in love with _you_. You! With your rudeness and anger and general all-around unpleasantness! You _idiot_! So she comes clean. On her own, mind you, not because she was found out, _but because she knew she was wrong_. She believed that you deserved to know. And you reject her. You bloody bastard." 

Ellie locked her jaw, paced a few times, and then stopped. She stared at him. 

"Did she ever once do anything unkind while she was Gwen? One single thing? No! She accepted you as you are. You idiot! You were downright awful to her in the beginning." Ellie threw up her arms, and let them drop to her sides.

"She deceived me. Us. The whole town, Ellie! But not only us, she lied to her own mother!" There was now a hint of emotion in his voice. 

"But she told us! She told them!" Ellie argued. "She treated you with respect, Hardy. And kindness! You can not fake that. She was being _herself_. The only thing that changed about her was her name." She paused to breathe hard. "You bloody idiot. Choose to love her. CHOOSE to forgive her! She. Needs. You. She has been hurting for three years! Can't you see that? Help her! Be the person she loves and trusts!" She glared at him, hands on hips, her suit jacket pushed back. She threw up her arms. "Well? Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" 

"No." He shook his head. "Nothing to add." Alec logged out of his computer, stood, and then left without another word. 

oOo

Rose let herself in the kitchen door of her parents’ home. She winced when it creaked as she closed it. She heard a television playing in the other room, and then footfall.

“Who’s there? I know how to defend myself. Don’t you try anything!”

“It’s me, Mum,” Rose answered quickly, but quietly.

"Rose?" Jackie entered the darkened kitchen. “What are you doing here? It's nearly midnight. And get that mangy looking dog out of my kitchen." 

Tiger trotted away to find someplace soft to rest. 

"Can I stay here for a few days? I'm going to need to find a flat and arrange for my things in Broadchurch to be delivered here and-" 

"You only left yesterday. I haven't even changed out the sheets on your bed from your last visit. What in the world are you going on about? A flat? Your things?” Jackie asked. 

“Can I stay here?” Rose asked, her voice calm and even. 

"Rose,” Jackie drew out her name. “What aren’t you telling me?” Jackie flipped on the light. “Oh my gods! What happened to your face? And your neck? Bloody hell, Rose Tyler, you look like you've been in a pub brawl! Pete! Get down here!” Jackie bellowed. 

"It's not as bad as it looks," she lied. Rose had delayed taking any pain killer because of the drive. Now all she wanted was a bed and the bottle of Percocet.

Pete hurried in, wearing a dressing gown. 

"Just look at our daughter, Peter Tyler!” Jackie screeched.

“I’m fine,” Rose said, voice tired and breaking.

"Like hell you aren’t! Look at your neck! Pete, look at her neck! It's bruised! Someone tried to strangle you!" Jackie screeched. 

“I, um, someone attacked me in my house, and I got out of hospital this morning. I'm going to close up the shop and sell. Gonna sell the house, too. Tony will be disappointed, not getting to visit my house on the sea," she rambled quietly. 

"What in the world are you doing here, then?" asked Pete. "You should be resting, still in hospital even! I didn't get a flash notification that your home had been broken into. I need to call Jake." 

"Oh forget Jake, Pete! She's here, and she's safe.” Jackie hissed. “No need to explain tonight. You need to get to bed, Sweetheart. Come on then, upstairs with you.”

“I agree with your Mum, Rose,” Pete said kindly. “You need to rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

oOo

The rain splattered against the kitchen windows, and the wind howled through the chimney of the open brick oven on one end of the kitchen. The family sat around the kitchen table. They all had their hands around warm mugs of tea. A plate of fresh pastries sat in the middle of the table, untouched.

“Now tell us what's happened, and no more lies, Rose. I mean it!" Jackie said firmly. 

Rose took a deep breath, and slowly released it. “The first thing I did when I got back in Broadchurch day before yesterday, was tell Alec the truth. I told him my name. Showed him the pictures. Everything.” Rose cleared her throat. “He didn’t take it very well.” Her voice cracked.

“Don’t tell me he did this to you?” Jackie said low and angry.

“No!” Rose shouted as loudly as her damaged through could manage. “Of course not! He’d never hurt me like this.”

“Well, you never know about people until they’re—” Jackie dragged out the word.

“Jacks, let Rose finish,” interrupted Pete.

“It was Marcus Rowe, Pete. The bloke who broke into the shop before. He was the one who was behind _all_ of the break-ins. He was waiting for me in my house last night after I — after I told him.” Rose heaved a sob. "After I told Alec.” Rose dropped her head into her hands.

“Where is Rowe now?” Pete asked.

“Hospital. Or maybe in jail by now. I kicked his arse. Sent him through a plate glass window.” She laughed once through heavy tears.

oOo 

The October morning wind coming off of the ocean was brisk. Alec was finding it difficult to maintain his usual brisk running pace. He was exhausted, having not slept soundly since he had shared his bed with _her_. Zoka had been dark for two weeks now. He hadn’t been by her home since the morning after the break-in, while she was still in hospital. 

He and Ellie were barely on speaking terms at work. Outside of the station, they weren’t speaking at all. So when his mobile chirped a text message from Ellie, his immediate response was to groan at the thought of being called in on a Sunday. 

_There are movers at Rose's house._

He found a second wind, and sprinted home. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

"Who's in charge?" Alec asked as he walked into the front room of _her_ house. 

"That'd be me," answered a short, burly man wearing blue coveralls. 

Alec pulled out his badge and flashed his credentials. "Show me something that proves you have authority to be emptying this property of its goods. I know the owner, and she has not told me of any plans to move." 

"Everything's in order and official, Inspector." The driver produced the bill of lading. 

Alec pulled out his glasses and studied the flimsy, yellow piece of paper. Right at the top was her name and a London delivery address. He pressed his lips together and muttered a curse. He nodded a few times, and then walked into the lounge. 

The first time he was in her home, he’d thought that the room didn’t feel quite real. It lacked warmth and any personal touches. But he’d noticed that slowly, she’d begun to make the house looked lived-in. She’d hung a few coffee-themed prints in the kitchen. There was a large apothecary jar of seashells and sea glass on the floor next to the console table in the entry. He’d seen her pick them up on their Sunday morning runs. 

His eyes were drawn to a splash of red and yellow leaning against the wall. It was a poster, protected from wrinkling by cardboard and plastic. " _Vertigo_..." he whispered to himself as he picked it up. The edges were frayed, and the colour faded in places, obviously not a reproduction. It had provably hung in the lobby of some cinema in 1958. 

A shocking pink Post-it was stuck to the right hand corner. "Please give to neighbour Ellie Baker. For Alec." He grabbed it, left out the side door, and headed for Ellie's. He rapped on her kitchen door until she answered. It groaned squeakily as she pulled it open. 

"She bought this for me." His face was twisted under his four days' growth of beard. 

"Get in here." Ellie grabbed his arm, and pulled him inside. 

"Gwen bought this for me." He repeated his statement, this time with even more emotion. 

"Her name is not Gwen, it is _Rose_." Ellie's back was to him as she poured two cups of coffee out of her percolator. "Does that old tattered poster mean something?" 

Alec ran his hand through his unwashed hair, still sweaty from running, messing into an even-worse state. "Remember when she got the flu a few months ago, and I stayed with her because I was stuck there? It flooded up the road a ways." 

"Yeah, ‘course I do. I had to tell you to feed her and take care of her,” Ellie replied. 

"She asked if I wanted to watch telly. _Vertigo_ was on that classic film channel, and she'd never seen it. I mentioned it was my favourite film." 

"So,“ Ellie dragged out the word, "she bought you a poster." She tilted her head to the side and tapped her chin. "Hmm. Now why in the world would she go and do a _terrible_ thing like that?" Ellie asked, sarcastically. 

"Because she remembered, Baker. She was out of it, and she hardly remembered anything from that day, but she remembered this thing." Alec paused. "My favourite film." 

"Yes. She did." Ellie nodded, then smirked. "There's paperwork under plastic on the back of the cardboard. May wanna check that." Ellie took a sip of coffee, and held onto the mug, watching him over the rim. 

Alec flipped the poster over, and read the invoice. "Velvet Curtain Film Memorabilia. And she ordered this six weeks ago. That was before we started seeing each other officially." Alec stared out Ellie's kitchen window. A man was carrying out the headboard from Rose's bed. 

"I gotta go,” he panicked.

"You can't ignore this, Alec. You've been doing that for two whole weeks already," Ellie chastised, though now, her voice was kind, free of sarcasm or judgment. 

"I'm definitely _not_ ignoring. I'm going to London." 

"Don't you dare arse this up, Hardy!” Ellie said firmly. "And give her a hug from me." 

Alec nodded once before leaving with the poster in hand. 

oOo 

"Roberts, you were told you to approach carefully! We know _nothing_ about this alien," said Pete. He scrubbed a hand down his face. "What’s it doing now?" Pete asked. He leaned forward and looked up at the large monitor on the wall of his home office. 

The man on the video monitor nervously looked over his shoulder, and then back into the camera. "It's making weird cooing sounds. Like a bird. But an angry bird. _Furious_ , even," operative Roberts. “Every time we try and get within ten feet of it, it lets out this screeching sound. Windows on two of our vehicles have already shattered from the racket!" 

"You need to get a handle on this situation, Roberts. This is what you've been trained for. Now sort it!" Pete barked. 

The man stood up straighter and pulled in his chin. "Permission to tranquillise subject, Director, Sir!" he asked in a snappy, 'good troop' voice. 

"You're kidding, right?" Pete swore under his breath. "No. That is against Torchwood protocol, and in violation of about twenty intergalactic treaties. Subject has not harmed anyone, and is _not_ being aggressive," Pete said, as if talking to a kindergartener. "Now, take care of the nice peacock-feathered bird person in bloody Hyde Park!" Pete yelled, then muted the microphone's connection to field agent Roberts. 

"Bloody hell," moaned Jake over the speakerphone, conferencing in from Canary Wharf. “Now they’re telling us the bloody translator isn't working!" 

"I want that entire team back into training!" hollered Pete. 

Rose sauntered in to Pete’s office. She sat on the edge of Pete's desk, and then took a bite of her turkey sandwich. 

He looked over at Rose. "Isn't this just dandy," Pete said, irritated. 

"Lousy day to be out on an op. Would you look at that rain.” She pointed at the feathered woman sitting on a rock, jerkily turning her head side to side. “That’s a female Pavo,“ Rose offered. "They come from the planet Avis. She’s a long way from home. Never seen one of them here though, not in this universe. Met a pair of ‘em once on the other side. I wonder why she’s so upset?" 

“Don’t know. The translator isn't working," Pete said, rubbing his eyes.

“Tell ‘em to show me their translator unit.” She took a bite. The picture became wobbly as the operative with headstrap camera zoomed in on a small black pack on Roberts’ belt.

“That’s one of the older units. They’re fiddly. Easy to put on the wrong setting,” she said, nonchalant, taking another bite. 

Pete raised an eyebrow. ”Roberts, what mode have you set the translator to?" Pete asked the team leader, looking over at Rose. 

"Uh. Oh. Shhhiii—, er...oops. It's uh, set to telepathy," Roberts reported sheepishly. 

Pete had no reply. He shook his head and pursed his lips. 

"Have him ask her if she's hurt," said Rose, mouth full. 

The speaker on the agent's hip broadcasted a series chirps and twitters, like birdsong. 

The creature lifted its head, and opened its eyes. "Lost my Azure." The device translated her chirps and tweets into English. She cooed sadly. "Mate is lost. Our escape eggs — our emergency shells — they cracked. Then we were separated." The alien made a quiet keening sound. 

Once the situation was brought back under control Pete dropped off of the videoconference. 

"Her mate will show up soon if he survived the landing. They're telepathically linked, and he'll follow her cries, sorta like radar." 

"Glad you happened by," said Pete to his daughter. 

"Glad I did, too. Pavons can get really agitated when they're separated from their mates. Sort of work themselves into a tizzy unless someone is there to calm them down." 

“Well there you have it. Telepathic bird people. Just another day at Torchwood," said Pete, relaxing into his chair.

"Telepathic mode.” Rose snorted a laugh. "As far as I know, none of those blokes are class four telepaths. They're lucky their brains didn't short out," she said with the barest hint of a smile. She sat quietly for a moment. "Felt sorta good to help out." 

Pete opened his mouth to speak, but Rose cut in before he could start. "My stuff is scheduled to be here later this afternoon, at least that's what the driver said when he texted me right as they pulled out of Broadchurch." 

"They packed you and got here the same day?" Pete asked, surprised. 

"I don't have much left after the break-in. My bookcase, my dining set, and the bedroom set were the only pieces of furniture that Rowe didn't ruin. My sofa, those brilliant reclining chairs and my gorgeous mattress were slashed to bits, so those went to the rubbish heap. Only a few kitchen things needed to be wrapped, and there were some clothes to be thrown into cartons, a few pieces of framed art and some mementos." Rose shrugged. "It'll be nice to sleep on a mattress that isn't on the floor. This one isn't quite as comfy as my other mattress, but it'll do." 

"Can I come down to the cottage and help you get things sorted?" Pete asked.

"No, that's okay, but thanks for offering." 

"I know! How about I stay and wait for the movers, and you go out to lunch with Jacks and Tony." Pete grinned a bit too widely as he stood and picked up his mug of tea. 

Rose smirked. "I think I'll have to pass, ta. I know where you and Mum are taking Tony. He hasn't stopped jabbering about it for two days.” 

"Yeah, thought so. Why I ever promised we would take him to that bloody place if he would at least try to ride his bicycle without training wheels." 

"Next time, promise someplace quiet like the British Museum or Kew instead of Pizza 'n Play," Rose joked. "And make sure you take some paracetamol before you go, 'cos I guarantee you're gonna get a headache from the racket," Rose said with a tongue-touched smile. She laughed. "Remember the time we found the alien working there, dressed in the rat costume?" 

"What food establishment purposefully chooses a rat as their mascot?" Pete asked. He patted his daughter on the shoulder, then walked away. 

oOo 

The ever-present storm clouds had cast a pall over London. October in London was generally damp, drizzly and on the cool side. This year, however, the rain was constant, thick and drenching. Combined with unseasonably warmer temperatures, the air was humid and thoroughly uncomfortable. The buzz of the front gate intercom knocked Rose out of her thoughts. 

_It's hours too early to be the movers_ Rose thought to herself. She pressed the green button on the wall panel. "Hello?" She released the button, and waited for a reply. All she heard was muffled crackling. 

The buzzer sounded again, but again, only a muffled voice came through the speaker. "I can't hear you. You're gonna have to speak up." 

Whoever was requesting entry pressed the intercom button a third time, and it buzzed irritatingly. Rose pressed the reply button. "Yeah, I'm here. Who is this?" Still, no reply. "I'm gonna assume you're the movers, but if you aren't, I hope you aren't here to murder me and chop me into little pieces. There's a security camera, so you'll get caught if you're a nutter," she joked before pressing the button to open the security gate. "I'm in the little stone cottage at the very end of the drive, not in the main house." 

She sat back down on the sofa and waited for the rumbling engine of a large truck, but none came. Five minutes later the doorbell sounded. “Took you long enough,” she said to herself. “It only takes thirty seconds to drive from front gate to here.” Rose pulled the door open. 

"I'm an arse."

Rose blinked hard and held onto the doorknob to stay upright. "You're not the movers." 

"Can I come in?" Alec Hardy stood on the small cement pad. He was dressed in running gear, and was soaking wet from the rain. He looked up at the sky. Water ran down his forehead in rivulets. 

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "Alec, what are you doing here?" Rose asked, almost whispering, fighting to keep her voice steady. 

Alec stepped inside, awkwardly. 

"Why are you wearing your running clothes?" Rose knew it was the wrong question to ask, but she was afraid that asking the right question - _Why are you here?_ \- would break her heart. 

“You're soaked. You're gonna get a chill." Reflexively, she reached out pushed a lock of drenched hair out of his eyes. 

He shivered slightly at the grazing touch of her finger over his brow. 

"Why I'm in my running clothes isn't important," he said a bit sharply, running his hand through his hair. "I'm here because — because I need to know why you did what you did. I want to know. I want to understand.” He paused. “ _Rose_ , please explain it to me." 

"Oh." Rose bit her lip, feeling profound disappointment. "You're here to wrap up the mystery of Gwen Lewis," she said cooly, hiding her broken heart. "I'll get you something to dry off with." Hastily, Rose left the man in her foyer. She returned with a thick, terrycloth, man's dressing gown draped over her arm. 

"I borrowed this from Dad when I came back — from — “ Rose closed her eyes and shook her head. "When I returned to London, I didn't bring much with me. Dad says he hates lounging around in the morning," she rambled, handing the expensive, monogrammed garment to Alec. "Of course Mum loves lazing about in her dressing gown. Never really could do that before she married Pete. But now that she doesn't have to work, she can afford to be lazy. But he likes to get dressed straightaway in the morning. Mum bought matching gowns for him and Tony last Christmas. I like dressing gowns, though, and forgot mine in Broadchurch, so he let me borrow his. It's very soft." She cleared her throat and looked away.

Alec shivered as he half-listened to Rose’s dressing gown soliloquy. Now that he was here, he wasn’t really sure how to go forward. He knew he was sorry. He knew he had been an idiot, but she _had_ deeply wounded him after all. He did need to understand. But perhaps getting answers could wait. As Ellie had told him this morning, Rose had acted out of pure pain and mental anguish.

He took the dressing gown, and started to pat himself dry with the robe. "A towel might be better." 

Rose snickered. ”I didn't mean for you to use it to dry yourself off. I thought you could wear it while, well…” Rose cleared her throat again. "I think you’d better take off that wet running kit. I'll launder your clothes for you. It'll only take about an hour on the speed cycle." 

Alec pursed his lips, then nodded. "I'll just go and change. Where should I do that?” His teeth were now chattering. 

"Uh, the en suite is just off of my bedroom. It's the only bathroom. This new place is much smaller than my house in Broadchurch. There's a fresh towel hanging on the hook. Take a hot shower if you'd like. I mean, only if you want to." 

The moment Alec was out of sight, Rose covered her face and drew in a deep breath to steady her trembling. He’d come for answers, not for her. Rose's first thought was to run away, but Alec emerged quickly, his hair towel-dried and pushed back off of his face. 

"How'd you get so wet? Did you swim here?" Rose attempted humour to hide her sadness. 

"I stood outside your door in the rain for a few minutes before I knocked. Wasn't sure you wanted to see me again." He handed the wet clothing to Rose. 

"You thought _I_ didn't want to see you again?" she asked, wide-eyed. 

"You left without a word. What else was I supposed to think?" Alec crossed his arms.

She scowled. ”And you couldn't even look at me after I was almost murdered in my own living room," she replied. She turned on her heel, clenching the wet clothing in her fist. She entered the kitchen where the washer-dryer combo was located, shoved the clothing into the drum, added the soap and slammed the door shut. 

_Why did he come all the way here? Just to hurt me again?_ she thought to herself as she leaned against the counter. The machine whirred indicating that the wash cycle had begun on the combination washer and dryer. She returned to the lounge, and gingerly sat down. She placed her hands on her knees, and looked straight ahead. "Alec, why are you here? Really?" she asked plainly, controlling her emotions. 

"I came for answers," he answered. "I need to know why you did what you did. I want to understand, Rose. Please." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "Please explain it to me." 

"For answers." Rose nodded, trying to control her quivering voice. She swallowed hard. "I suppose that's fair." She looked down at her short, half-varnished fingernails, and began picking off the remains of the red lacquer. "Go on then, ask away," she said tears welling in her eyes. 

"Rose, you just left." He ran his hand through his hair nervously, and then tugged the sash of the dressing gown tighter around his waist before pushing his hands into the pockets. He towered over her for a moment, then turned and sat on the sofa. He wasn’t close enough so that their legs were touching, but neither was he on the opposite end. "You just left Broadchurch without telling anyone. Not even to Ellie. I can understand why you didn't want to tell me, but why didn't you tell her?" he asked. 

"What makes you think I didn't tell her before I left?" she asked. 

"Ellie knew?" Alec asked. 

"I am her neighbour. You really think she didn't know I was gone?" she said somewhat caustically, but then she changed her tone. "Sorry." She sighed. "I told her right before I left. I didn't want her to worry." 

"She never said anything to me," he grumbled. 

"Don't be too hard on her. We haven't spoken since." Rose hugged herself protectively and looked straight ahead. 

Alec was silent for a moment. "I found the _Vertigo_ poster in your house while the movers were there.”

"What were you doing in my house? That _Vertigo_ poster, it was in my house." Rose chewed her lip. "'Cos I didn't even pull it out of the cupboard until right before I left Broadchurch. And you'd already given me my key back. I found it when I came home from hospital. Tiger was home. And the key was there." Her voice trailed off, avoiding the memory. “Why were you in my house while the movers were there?“ she asked.

"It's Sunday, so I was running on the beach," he said with a sudden softness in his voice. "Ellie texted me. Told me there was a moving truck at your home. I was worried you were being burglarised." 

"Always on duty, you are," Rose said without hiding the sadness which was now overwhelming her. 

"I demanded to see their credentials," he said under his breath. "Why were there movers at your house?" Now his voice was more fervent. He leaned forward and turned his head, trying to catch her eyes. “Other than the obvious fact that you’ve apparently decided to move.”

Rose continued to hug herself, but refused to look at him. “Yeah. You’re right. Obviously, I’ve decided to move back here.” 

"Obviously,” he grumbled. 

They sat quietly for a moment.

"I overheard you and Ellie talking in A&E, you know. I was eavesdropping through the curtain when you gave your statement." 

"Didn't your Mum or Dad teach you it was impolite to eavesdrop?" Rose asked. 

"I was bloody worried about you." He sounded slightly angry, but his face showed no anger. "Even though I didn't show it." He clenched his jaw. "You'd been stabbed. That monster could have done so much worse. I was afraid you hadn't told the whole story to the paramedic. I needed to know he hadn't put his bloody hands on you, hadn't raped you." 

Rose swallowed hard, feeling the urgency in his words. She allowed herself to wonder if he was here for more than answers. Rose chewed on her lower lip and nodded subtly. "What else did you hear?" 

"You told Ellie. You told her about _Rose Tyler_.” 

"I was done with secrets," she said. "She was my best friend in Broadchurch, Alec. I couldn't keep it from her. I told her the first chance I had. And she was so angry. But then she seemed to sort of understand. I don't know, maybe she doesn't. Maybe I'm wrong, because she hasn't called me, either. I even got a replacement mobile and everything — Rowe stomped on my other one you know. But I kept my same number hoping that maybe you or her might,” Rose said, as she raised one shoulder, “sometime. But she’s still mad it seems.” 

Alec kicked himself mentally. "No. Ellie is not angry at you. Not at all. She is angry at _me_. I am persona non grata in Ellie's book," he said, trying to lighten the moment. "We have hardly talked, which is rather awkward considering we are a team, and I think she may have put salt in my tea." 

Rose offered a hint of a smile. "I don't recall you ever asking for salt." 

He half smiled briefly. "Ellie got me to stop pitying myself and see that you are hurting, too. She is very worried about you, and she is the one who smacked some sense into me." 

"She hit you?" Rose asked, surprised. 

"No," he chuckled and shook his head. "She should have." He regained his serious composure. "When did you leave?" 

"Late Saturday afternoon." 

"The same day you were released from hospital?" he asked, surprised. 

"Yeah." She turned her head halfway towards him, so she could see him out of the corner of her eye. "Right after I was released, Ellie took me to Zoka so I could unlock the shop, and so SOCO could get the box that Donald Jones bloke sent to himself. Then she took me home." Her lower was now quivering. "Tiger was home, and — and — then I saw the key I had given you, and I knew — I knew — I knew you didn't want me anymore." Rose pulled a tissue from the box on the side table. "I needed to be alone." Rose's voice broke. "So I asked Ellie to leave. She didn't want to, but I made her go." Tears started to fall freely. 

Alec swallowed hard, and looked down. 

"So I packed a few things, and I wrote the note and stuck it to the poster and — and I took Tiger. I said goodbye to Ellie, and that was it. I left." She paused. "I ran away from you, Alec. And I ran away from everything that reminded me of being Gwen." Rose put a hand to her mouth and stifled a sob. 

Alec bent forward and leaned on his knees, staring straight ahead.

"I was so ashamed. What I did was unforgivable, and I deserve what I got from you, I know that now. But that doesn't make it hurt any less, because I love you, Alec. I still do."

Alec's head swiveled to look at her. "I don't know why you do." 

"Because I just do! And I understand now that you don’t, and it hurts, so, so much." Rose dropped her head into her hands. 

Alec took one of her hands, pulled it into his lap, and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders to calm her shaking. 

"I wasn't rejecting you," he said quietly.

"Then what was it? Because it sure felt like it," she said quietly. 

"I'm sure it did. Like I said, I'm an arse." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "But what you told me, that was pretty bloody shocking, you have to admit. I was angry, so very angry at you. And mad at myself, too, for letting myself get hurt." 

Rose sniffed and looked away, but nodded. 

"Please tell me you aren't going to stay here in London," he said after a few moment of silence. "How are we going to work through our _difficulties_ if we live three hours apart?" He stared straight ahead. 

"You want to us to be together?" she asked, voice shaky.

"Yes, of course I do." He turned and looked at her. “You know I love you, don't you?" 

She shook her head. "I know you said it before. But," she blushed a bit, "I thought maybe you were saying it because we were about to have sex, and maybe were just saying it 'cos of that." 

He shook his head. "I meant it then. I was already in love with you. Had been for a while. But you need to know this, Rose. It's important, and I hope you understand what I need to say. I _fell_ in love with you. But now, I'm _choosing_ to love you. I am making a decision. There's no falling involved. I want you and me to be together. Do you understand what I am saying to you?" 

Never before had Rose been spoken to so honestly. "I understand." She nodded and hugged him fiercely. 

"Do you want to try to make us work?" Alec caressed her cheek.

Rose nodded. "Yeah," she managed before the tears began falling again. "It's gonna be hard, isn't it? Trusting me again?" 

"No. I don't think it will be." Alec hugged her even more tightly. 

"Forgive me for running away?" 

"Aye. And would you forgive me for ignoring you for two weeks?" 

"Yes." Rose nodded. "That's a lot of forgiving and sorry-ing," she said, then laughed through her tears. 

"I'm sure there'll be plenty more 'I'm sorry' saying," he said with wry humour, but then he became serious. "Why did you think that changing your name would change your life?" 

Rose sighed before she attempted to reply. "I wasn't thinking." 

"You were just running?" Alec offered. 

Rose pinched her lips together and nodded. "I felt responsible for the deaths of my friends and co-workers. My brain knew it wasn't my fault, but I believed that it was." She looked over at a framed picture of herself and the Doctor, in their 1950's garb. "It was a horrible accident." 

Down deep she knew that the Doctor had to have been the one who sealed the cracks between the universes; however, she also knew that it was a tragic coincidence. "Dad suggested I see a therapist who specialised in PTSD, but I wouldn't do." 

"Guilt can eat you up inside, especially when it is unfounded," Alec said, nodding in understanding. "Maybe you could talk to someone now? I know he's not an elite London professional, but from what I hear, Reverend Coates has a very good ear." 

"Maybe," she replied. Rose turned sideways, curling her legs up underneath her. "I suppose I thought changing my name, and my job, and where I lived would somehow make the pain magically stop. And it worked for a while. I went days without thinking about either James or Mickey or the others. But then, well, I met you. I was really, _really_ thrown, Alec." 

"I bet that was quite a shock." He took her hands into his.

"You would not believe some of the weird dreams I had." Rose pinched her lips and tried to hide her small smile by looking down at their hands. She recalled one dream involving Alec Hardy using a sonic screwdriver at a crime scene, and another where the Doctor refused to shave for a week, and only wore black suits. 

"I hate being lied to," Alec said out of the blue. His sudden words snapped Rose out of her thoughts. "That's something you need to know about me. I hate it. Nothing makes my blood boil like being deceived. So coming from you, it stung especially hard. I felt like I'd been stabbed in the gut. Other than Ellie, you are the only person that I have truly trusted in years. In fact, you know more about me than even Ellie knows." 

Rose looked at him, and squeezed his hand. "I'm so, so sorry I did this to you." 

"I believe you are, Rose." He caressed her hand. "It's still a lot to take in, and if I'm being perfectly honest, I still don't fully understand why, and maybe I never will. But I do know that I want to be here for you, to be who you need me to be." 

She turned and looked at him fully. “For me, the fear of being abandoned, being left behind, scares me more than anything else. So when you shut your bedroom door, I panicked." 

"I was being intentionally cruel," he admitted. 

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

"Leaving your key in the bowl. I was trying to make a grand statement. Like slamming a door, but I'm not a door slammer. I'm more subtle," said Alec. 

"I'm sarcastic when I'm upset," countered Rose. 

"No. Really? I wouldn't have guessed." Alec frowned until she smiled at his joke. 

"And selfish. I am _so_ selfish." She sighed and shook her head. 

"I've heard talk around town that I might be a wee bit grumpy," he said.

“You are _ridiculously_ grumpy,” Rose agreed. “But I pick my fingernails." 

"I don't shave often enough." 

"I like your scruff," Rose cupped his face. 

"I hate long fingernails." He kissed her hands. 

"So are we gonna just sit here and list all of our faults? 'Cos I can think of better things to do," Rose challenged. 

"Like what?" asked Alec, leaning closer.

"Well, there's always going for a run-"

"In the rain?" Alec asked.

"Or we could join my little brother at Pizza 'n Play. Or-"

He silenced her with a short, but passionate kiss, and then pulled back with a wicked grin. 

"Something like that?" 

She nodded, looked at his lips, then licked her own. It was unclear whether she pushed him down, or he pulled her to him, but soon they were stretched out on the sofa, settled in each other's arms. 

"I don't think you realise how much you have done for me, Rose." Alec said soft and low between soft, lingering kisses. 

Rose rested her head on his chest, and she smiled as his voice rumbled under her cheek. 

"You made me feel wanted, not just needed. You made me smile."

"And you made my heart skip a beat whenever you walked through my door." Rose squeezed his arm.

"Gwen Lewis made me look forward to getting up in the morning." 

Rose's face fell. "Gwen did that." 

"No." He lifted his head and looked at her. "No," he repeated. "Rose did that. You did that." He kissed her tenderly, brief and gentle. "As Ellie not so kindly pointed out to me the other day, right after calling me several rather choice names, you can't fake kindness, or respect, or friendship." 

Rose squeezed her eyes shut, trying to withhold the burning tears of relief. "Mum and Dad, they said the same thing. But hearing it from you… I _needed_ to hear it from you." Rose dropped her head onto his shoulder, and cried again. “I really need to stop this crying.”

Alec rubbed circles on her back, calming her, comforting her. When her crying ended, she slowly lifted her head from his shoulder, cupped his stubbled cheek, and kissed him, melting her lips into his, feeling relief and acceptance in his arms. 

"Rose." Alec spoke her name, barely a whisper, into her mouth. "I really do love you." 

"Yeah?" she asked, revelling in the sound of the words. 

"Aye." He pulled her closer. 

When their lips met this time, the kiss went on and on, gentle at first, then needy, then deeper even still until passions stirred. 

Rose pulled away first. "I'm not ready for that yet." 

"Okay," he replied, stopping himself. He changed the subject. "How are you feeling? Looks like the wound on your face is healing nicely." He traced the faint scar with his thumb. 

"Torchwood medical tech," Rose replied, with a bit of pride. "It's a bit more,” she wrinkled her nose, “advanced. The stab wounds on my back are almost gone already. Nothing they can do about the broken ribs, though. Still hurts like mad when I lie down." 

"Do you hurt right now?" he asked, concerned.

"Probably, but I could care less." She kissed him sweetly, then sat up. 

Alec joined her upright, and then looked around the room, taking in the rugged stone walls of the cottage. "This wee house of yours, what is it?" 

"Uh, it used to be the gardener's cottage. But when Dad lost his first wife, he didn't really want to have live-in staff anymore. The building is old. It was here before the mansion was built even. The mansion looks a lot newer than it is. His first wife renovated it within an inch of its life. She didn't like anything to look old I guess." 

"I like old places," Alec said quietly. 

"I do too." 

"Haven't we had this discussion before?" he said with a smile, reminding Rose of her own words when she saw his cottage for the first time. 

Rose smiled and nodded, remembering the moment. "So, what now?" she asked. 

"Right now? I am rather hungry," Alec answered. 

"I'll order in, considering you aren't really dressed for going out," she said, flirtatiously touching the exposed skin of his chest. 

"I'm disappointed. I thought for sure you'd call in the family tailor your dad keeps on retainer, and have a suit of clothes made for me so we could go out to dinner at some restaurant which has been booked for months." 

"Oh, so that's it. You want me for my money," she teased, with a tongue-touched smile. 

"Aye." 

"I think I like the sound of that. My own kept man. That makes me your sugar mama. Of course, you could always be my pool boy. We have a lovely pool house, and I really do love to swim." 

They both laughed, and then sighed in tandem, which led to another round of laughter. 

"Sure, I'll order something in. But when I asked, 'what now,' I meant what do I _do_ now? Do I stay here in London, or call the movers and cancel the delivery? Have them turn back around?" 

"You know my preference." Alec rubbed a small circle on the back of her hand. 

"This morning, I helped with an op. It was only via videoconference, nothing official. But it felt good, being able to solve the problem that the team was having." 

"You want to stay here? Go back to your old job?" He didn’t try hide his disappointment. 

"No," she said forcefully, shaking her head. "Maybe sometime in the future. But not now. I only mention it because it felt good to be _needed_ , to be part of something _important_ again." 

"You don't think you're needed in Broadchurch?" Alec asked, puzzled. 

"Well, the police department might cease to function if the shop remains closed much longer." She snorted a laugh. 

"I know a few people who might do me bodily harm if they find out you aren't reopening. Might even find myself being tarred and feathered for running you out of town." 

"Well, there we go. I can _not_ have that on my conscience." Rose smiled at him, and dipped her head. "I think maybe I want to be Rose Tyler, but in Broadchurch. Blimey, how am I gonna explain my name change to everyone?" she asked, as she let her head fall onto his shoulder. 

"Cross that bridge when you come to it." 

"I could always give an interview to _The Echo_ , that'll spread the word fast," she suggested with a straight face. 

"Now that would be ironic."

"How so?"

"That's how I came clean about Sandbrook," said Alec, before clenching his jaw. 

Rose's eyebrows shot up as Alec nodded his head in confirmation.

"You're not serious about The Echo thingare you?" Alec asked, incredulous. 

Rose rolled her eyes. "No!" 

"You know, you _are_ part of something important, back in Broadchurch. Rose, you have made a difference in people's lives. Did you know that Chloe has decided to go back to school? Get her A-Levels? Coates told me the other day. Chloe told him that _you_ inspired her." 

"I need to tell her, Alec. She deserves to hear it from me." 

"And what about this. Your move to Broadchurch directly led to the end of a major drug distribution ring in the area. We didn't even know about the operation until you opened Zoka." 

"And promptly got hit over the head." 

"But you did meet me in the A&E," Alec added, with a grin. 

Rose smiled widely. "So, I am curious. Was there money in the box?" 

"Oh, right. The box. I almost forgot about that. If you had opened the box, you would have found over twenty-five grand." 

Rose smacked her forehead comically. "We could have run off together. Changed our names, even," she joked. 

Alec laughed, and shook his head. "I think we've had enough of fake names." 

Rose blushed at a memory of a wine-loosened conversation with Ellie months before. "I have a nickname for you, by the way." 

"You do?" he asked with a half smile.

"Mm hmm. Came up with it a while ago."

"Must be a good one, your cheeks are positively pink. Care to share with the class?" 

"Nope."

Alec frowned.

"Well, not yet, anyway." 

"I am a damn good DI, Ms. Tyler," he said, pointing at her sternly. "I will get the information out of you." 

"I hope you do." 

An electronic bell sounded in the kitchen. 

"Your clothes. They're already done," Rose announced, standing. 

Alec halted her, grabbing her hand. "I don't want to go back to Broadchurch without you. Please. I need you, Rose. Come back with me?" 

Slowly, a smile blossomed on Rose's face. "Of course I will, Alec Hardy. Who else is going to prepare your complicated tea every morning?" 

Alec stood, and pulled her close. "I am very, very happy to hear that."

"Thanks for coming after me."

"No more running, Rose," he said, shaking his head before kissing her soundly.

Their kiss was abruptly broken by the sound of a key in the lock, and the creaking of the old door. 

"Rose, sweetheart, Tony wants to show you what he won for you at Pizza 'n Play!" Jackie Tyler gasped as she swept into the cottage with little Tony close behind. "Rose Marion Tyler, why is that man wearing my husband's £250 monogrammed dressing gown?" 

"Mum, didn't you ever hear of knocking?!" Rose adjusted her clothing, though none was out of place. "Mum, this is Alec." 

Jackie glared at the man, then turned to Rose putting a hand on her hip. "Well obviously. He looks just like Himself! Who else would he be?" 

Alec straightened the dressing gown, and stood with confidence. "And you must be Rose's mother." 

"Some nerve you've got, showing your face here after what you did to my daughter! Tony, I want you to get back in the car. Tell your father that I'll be out in a moment." 

Tony obediently ran back out, and Alec Hardy never knew what hit him. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.  
> **

The red imprint on Alec's left cheek matched Jackie Tyler's ire. 

"What'd you go and slap him for?" Rose screeched. She moved between her mother and Alec, and cupped his cheek tenderly. "I'm sorry," she mouthed to Alec. Rose placed a hand on his chest protectively, and looked at her mother, her hazel eyes flashing. 

"No one treats my daughter the way you treated my Rose." Jackie hollered, pointing her perfectly manicured pink fingertip at Alec. 

"We were sorting it, Mum!" hissed Rose. 

Alec flexed his jaw, then rubbed his face. "I can see where Rose gets her strength." He placed a hand on Rose's shoulder and leaned in. "Rose, it's all right. I deserved that. If only all children were so lucky to have a mother so loyal," he whispered into Rose's ear. 

"And I would do it again in a heartbeat! I've slapped men much more dangerous than the likes of you! Ask Rose to tell you about old leather and ears!" 

"Don't you dare bring him into this, Mum."

"Rose, please don't argue with your mother about this. I deserved it. The last thing you need is a falling-out with your mother, especially over me." 

Jackie appraised Alec with a critical eye, then looked at him with slightly less disdain. "Listen to that man of yours, Rose. He seems sensible enough." 

"Slap first, ask questions later," Rose muttered under her breath. "Alec and me are trying to work out some things. No more slapping, Mum." 

Jackie squinted, pointed two fingers at her icy blue eyes, then directed the same two curved fingers at Alec. "I've got my eyes on you, Hardy." 

Subtly, Rose rolled her eyes. Jackie had seen the 'eyes on you' gesture watching _Meet the Parents_ in their original universe a few years before, and ever since, had used it liberally. 

With a balled fist on her hip, Jackie gestured her head. "Well go on then, put on some proper clothes, Detective Inspector Hardy. I suppose they're in the bedroom." 

"No, they are _not_ , Mum. They are in…” Rose rubbed her temples, both frustrated and self conscious. "They are in the dryer." 

"Whatever. Now shift, Inspector! I need a minute with my daughter." Jackie pointed towards the kitchen. 

Alec pressed his lips into a firm line, and stiffly marched out of the front room. 

"And you, Rose Marion.” Jackie pointed at her daughter. "You may have been putting on a brave face since you came back home two weeks ago, but don't you think for a minute that I haven't heard you crying in bed at night. Two weeks Rose! He didn't talk to you for two whole weeks, and then outta the blue here he is, just shows up, and you're already snogging him like you're a lovestruck sixteen year old! He has a bloody hickey on his neck!" 

Rose squeezed both her eyes and fists, and controlled her escalating breathing. "I know you are just trying to protect me, Mum, but I need to work this through. We need to work this through, but we are going to do it in our own time. And this is nothing like when I was sixteen. Or eighteen, or nineteen, or even — Or even like after we were stuck here. Nothing like that.” 

Jackie opened her mouth to respond, but Rose interrupted her. "Mum, I promise, I am not going to foolishly jump into anything too fast. I know I haven't exactly made the best decisions this last year, but Alec has convinced me to take Dad's advice. As soon as I get back home, I'm going to start seeing a professional, and talk about what happened. And Alec, he's trying to understand. He wants to know why, and I get that. He's not ignoring my past or telling me to just move on. He wants to help me work through it. What happened, it's a part of me, Mum. I know that now, and Alec,” Rose said as she took her mother’s hand, “…Alec loves me anyway. He loves who I am. Now." 

Jackie blinked slowly and released her breath, and then hugged her daughter. She held Rose until Alec returned, dressed in his now clean and dry running clothes. 

"Rose's father is going to want to have words with you, I'm sure," Jackie said, looking at Alec, though none of the former fierceness was in her voice. "And,” she said, even with a hint of kindness now, "I'm sure Pete will be able to rummage around for something warmer for you to wear. Goodness but you are skinny. Pete's clothes might fall right offa those hips'a yours." Jackie said with a sly grin. 

"Not that I owe you an explanation, Mum, but Alec's clothes were wet from getting caught in the rain," Rose said under her breath. "While they were in the wash, I lent him Dad's robe. He'd let me borrow it." 

"Just don't tell Pete he was wearing it," Jackie said, loud enough for Alec to hear. "It was plenty expensive, and I'm sure your stepdad won't appreciate knowing that his future son-in-law's bits were touching it." 

Alec's face blanched as Rose screeched, "Mum!" 

oOo 

"Would you like a glass of Scotch, Inspector?" Pete asked Alec, standing by the bar in his office. 

"I'll have whatever you're having." 

"You might change your mind. I'm having chamomile tea. It's terrible stuff, but my cardiologist claims it is good for stress," Pete said with a smirk. 

"Do you have Earl Grey?" asked Alec. 

Pete looked through the basket of coffee and tea cartridges until he found Hardy's preference. "I do miss a good glass of Scotch, but it's on my 'no list' now." Pete tapped his heart, then inserted the tea cartridge into a complicated looking drink machine. 

"I have my own 'no list'," Alec stated. "I've had heart my own heart troubles.”

“We sound bloody old. Yes, Rose told me. You have a pacemaker, right?"

”Aye. Can't even tell it's there most days. Feel better than I have in a few years." 

When he had discarded the tea cartridges and drawn both cups of tea, Pete handed a mug to Alec, and then sat in one of the two leather chairs, which faced the fireplace. "So I understand you've been officially welcomed." Pete made a slapping gesture with his hand. 

"I could charge her with assaulting a law enforcement officer," Alec said with a straight face, but he broke a subtle smile at the last moment. 

"Jackie does have a temper. I've been slapped a time or two. Or dozen," he said with a grin. "Think of it this way. Jacks slaps because she cares." 

Alec raised his eyebrows and smirked. "You should embroider that on a cushion." 

Pete raised his mug. "Might do, mate. She's especially protective of Rose." 

"I gathered that." Alec thought he would be wiser not to comment any further on the subject. 

"Rose was not in a good way after the explosion at work. Physically, she recovered quick enough, but emotionally, she withdrew. She became a completely different person." 

"I have to ask, Mr. Tyler, why did you help her with this charade? Changing her name, moving, giving up her life here in London?" Alec took a sip of tea and leaned forward. 

"Rose has told you her story. Now let me tell you mine. Maybe then you'll understand why I helped her." 

Alec listened to Pete Tyler tell of his marriage to his first wife, the Cybermen, 'James' and Rose's appearance, and his wife's violent death under the blades of conversion. "I became a hermit. I hid here in the mansion, became obsessed with finding a way to defeat the remaining Cybers. I completely withdrew. Vitex was suffering from my absence and eventually, I was asked to retire by my own board of directors. I fought it for oh, about a minute, then was glad to be done. 

"I was done with a lot of things, to be honest. Politics, business, bureaucracy, the ridiculous palace that this house had become. I cashed out my stock, liquidated most of my assets, even sold some of the contents of the mansion. There was a lot of art, silverware and frankly ugly antiques. Everything reminded me of my failure to see what was in front of my eyes. I had lost my wife months before she was killed, Inspector. We had all but signed the divorce papers. So when she was killed, I felt doubly guilty. I had wasted all that time we had together, working so hard to make money, and be the hero, the mole inside of Cybus. And I lost her." 

Alec was surprised by the man's humility, honesty and transparency. 

"So I formed Torchwood and threw myself into that. Worked myself to death. I'm sure my heart problems started then. The point is, I needed to escape. I reinvented myself. I saw that desire in Rose, and my heart ached for her. I understood exactly how she was feeling." 

"You have to admit, what she did was extreme." Alec sat back, and crossed his legs, resting an ankle on his knee.

"Her life was extreme. Her job was extreme. She needed an extreme escape, Inspector." 

"What does that mean? She told me she was some sort of a field operative, and even showed me some photos, but what sort of situations did she face?" 

"Someday, when she is ready, she’ll tell you, maybe even show you. But know this. Rose Tyler is a hero. She has saved all of us more times than you would care to know." 

"I don't understand. What do you mean?" asked Alec. 

"I mean exactly what I just said." Calmly, Pete took a sip of his tea. "In fact just this morning, she diffused what could had the potential to be a very dangerous situation. She sat right on the edge of that desk, calmly eating a sandwich, and talked one of our team leaders through a challenge." 

Alec looked into his teacup and contemplated Pete's words. The man was not going to give up any information about Rose's past employment with Torchwood, so he gave up that line of questioning. There was another lull in the conversation. This time, Alec breached the quiet. 

"Call me skeptical, but all of these lookalikes? I've never come across one doppelgänger, neither one of my friends, nor a family member. Your first and second wife. Rose's biological father and yourself. James and me? How is this possible?" Alec asked calmly, though curious. 

"Not sure I can explain it properly." Pete's answer was technically the truth. He still couldn’t comprehend the reality of duplicate universes. "I have the security camera video footage of Rose and James from the night the Cyber invasion. Wanna see?" 

Alec frowned and thought for a moment about the implications of seeing his double with the woman he loved. Perhaps seeing her interact with James would help him more fully understand the decisions that drove her to live as Gwen. 

"Yes. Show me." He nodded once. 

"All right then." Pete opened a drawer in the side table, and pulled out a wireless, silver computer keyboard. A large video monitor on the wall flickered on. Pete worked through several menus until he found the footage. 

"That's some security system you have. Not even time lapse," the Inspector said, impressed. 

Pete nodded, proudly, then he paused the video when Rose and the Doctor appeared squarely within the frame. "There they are, coming around corner in server's uniforms. Rose is balancing a tray." 

Though the video was not the highest quality, it was clear enough to see facial expressions. "Is it a strange feeling? Seeing yourself walking around?" asked Pete. 

It had been upsetting when he had stumbled upon the photograph of his lookalike. However, seeing 'himself' on video was a magnitude more shocking. Alec gasped audibly. "Strange doesn't go far enough," Alec said. His ears started ringing from elevated blood pressure. He stood up, put his hands on his hips and paced the room until his heart returned to a steady, though still higher rate. 

"You all right, Inspector?" Pete asked, concerned. 

Alec nodded. "That was unsettling," he said, wryly, before returning to his chair. "Start it back up." 

Playback resumed, and Alec concentrated, studied the couple's interactions. They often had their heads together, whispering, laughing, or just smiling. From time to time, they would touch hands if they were not actively serving. 

James was quick on his feet, constantly moving. Alec felt like a sloth in comparison to the other man. He couldn’t help but look for other similarities and differences. Hairline, eye shape, bone structure. Everything physical was identical. But even without the aid of audio, Alec could tell that his own personality was polar opposite to the man on the screen. _What did Rose see in me?_ he wondered. 

"I can see the gears turning from here, Alec," Pete said, using his name for the first time. 

"Can you now?" Alec replied with a slightly pained smile. And then something occurred to him. Pete Tyler had staged the auto accident footage. What if this wasn’t real? Could it be another elaborate stunt? But why? Alec knew that Tyler had nothing to gain. Logic told him it was real. 

Alec turned his attention back to the screen, noting how Rose acted around both Pete and his first wife. He could tell she was working to get their attention, trying to speak to both of them. 

"Uncanny how much Rose's mother looks like your first wife. Nearly identical," Alec observed. 

"Yeah. But two completely different women. Believe me. Couldn't be more like night and day. Loved my first wife - even though we had problems. And I love my Jacks." Pete went on to explain, in general terms, how 'James' had played matchmaker. "So, I understand what it is to love two people who look uncannily similar. You and James do look an awful lot alike, but the two of you are very different men." Pete took a sip of his tea. "You are your own man, Inspector, and Rose knows that, too." 

"Rose has reassured me several times. I believe her." 

"Good. You should." 

"I thought I recognized some famous faces. Did I see the former President?" Alec asked. 

"Yes. He was assassinated in our home," Pete answered, stoically. "As were several cabinet members and MPs." 

"What were Rose and James doing there, anyway? I thought that he was a research historian or a doctor or something, and they travelled." 

"That's right," Pete confirmed plainly. 

"But if I understand correctly, you didn't know Rose or her mother when the Cybermen attacked?" Alec asked in detective mode. 

"Correct, as well. James and Rose happened to be in London that night. They literally happened upon the party I was throwing for my wife's birthday, and for grins, donned uniforms, and got caught up in the action. That’s how I met James." 

"Very odd life you lead, Mr. Tyler," said Alec with a frown. 

"You don't know the half of it, mate, believe me." Pete shook his head. "So, what time are the two of you heading out? Do you have time for tea?" 

"Well, I have to be back at work tomorrow morning, so I should be leaving soon to avoid the Sunday mini-break traffic. I am not sure when Rose is returning to Broadchurch, but earlier, she told me she does have plans to move back." 

"She's leaving with you tonight," Pete said without question. 

Alec raised his eyebrows and nodded calmly, although inside, his heart beat harder at the prospect of he and Rose leaving tonight, together. 

"You look surprised," said Pete.

"She didn't give me any specifics."

"I overheard her talking to Jackie," said Pete, with a wink. 

"Well if that's the case, then perhaps Rose should have supper with her family tonight," Alec offered. "Thank you for the warmer clothing. If you wouldn't mind, may I wear this kit back to Broadchurch, and return it in the post?" 

Pete laughed. "No. Those tracksuit bottoms are far too long for me. You are at distinct advantage when it comes to height. Keep them." 

"Thank you."

"I think we should be thanking you, Inspector Hardy. Our Rose is going to be okay." 

Alec cleared his throat, then nodded. _Our Rose,_ he thought. Pete Tyler was a man who spoke intentionally, carefully choosing his words. _Our Rose,_ he repeated to himself. He knew how to read people, and from what he could tell, Pete Tyler had just welcomed him to the family. 

oOo 

"Bee-doh, bee-doh, bee-doh." Tony pushed a police car with lights flashing over the kitchen counter. "Are you really married to a real live policeman, Rose?" 

"We're not married, Tony," Rose said, stifling a laugh, while she helped her mother clear the dishes. 

"Oh, leave those dishes, Sweetheart, I have all night after you leave to do them. Or tomorrow." Jackie took the plates from Rose's hands, and set them in the sink. "The two of you need to get on the road before it's too late. More rain coming. Oh, I hate this place with its rain, rain, rain all the time. When is it ever gonna stop raining?" whinged Jackie. "Pete, can't those genius scientists of yours figure something out? I thought for sure when the cracks closed-" 

"Mum," interrupted Rose. "Why don't you package up a few of those biscuits you made this morning? For the road, yeah? And maybe make some tea?" 

"Sure, Sweetheart. Tony, you may have one biscuit, then it's bath and bed for you.”

"I don’t wanna bath! I wanna stay up with Rose and the policeman!" He pushed out his lower lip. 

"You can stay up for fifteen more minutes, Son, but then it's bath time," countered Pete patiently. 

Tony grunted. 

"Pull in that lip Anthony Michael, or there'll be no biscuit, and no fifteen minutes with your sister," Jackie warned her son. 

"Yes, Mummy. Yes, Daddy," the young boy replied. 

"Can I come to your house on the ocean, Rose? You said I could, before, when Daddy was in hospital. Can I come with you? Please? Please?" begged Tony. "You promised!" 

"But I don't have any furniture in my house, Tony." 

"We could sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag. That'd be fun! Like camping! Do you want to come camping too?" the little boy asked Alec. 

As Alec watched Tony beg his sister, Rose watched Alec, seeing an odd, nervous look in his eyes. Rose sidled up to the man, and touched his arm before crouching down to Tony's level. 

"Tony, what about this. How about you come and stay with me for Guy Fawkes Night? Alec, I hear that the Broadchurch bonfire and fireworks are brilliant." She turned and winked at Alec. 

"Yes, very. The fire brigade sets them off from the cliffs out over the ocean," Alec said seriously. 

"But Bonfire Night isn't for a long time," whinged Tony. 

"Mind your tone, Tony, or no biscuit," warned Jackie. "You can visit Rose when she invites you. Don't invite yourself, it's rude." 

"It's okay, Mum. It isn't rude if it's a little brother." Fondly, Rose kissed the top of the tyke's head, and stood. "It isn't as far away as you think, Tony. It's only three more weeks until Bonfire night," she said. 

"Really?" Tony asked, then smiled, his pouty attitude gone.

“Today is October the twelfth, and Bonfire Night is-" began Rose.

"Remember, remember the fifth of November!" chanted Tony. "That's only..." Tony counted on his fingers. "Twenty-one days! I did maths Daddy and Mummy! Please may I have my biscuit now?" asked the child. 

Jackie handed her son the treat, with a somewhat smug smile on her face. 

"Bright boy," Alec said quietly to Rose.

"Tell me one of your stories, Rose? I miss your bedtime stories."

"What do you want to hear about?" she asked. 

"Aliens, please." 

"Sure." Rose lifted Tony up onto the counter so they were at eye level. "Once upon a time, there was a lady from the planet Avis. She was very beautiful and covered with feathers that were the colours of a peacock. She wasn't just any lady, either. She was a princess, and her husband was the prince. One day, an evil king from another planet tried to steal her father's throne, and she and her prince had to escape. So they were very sneaky, and they escaped in their egg-shaped spaceship, but as they escaped the evil king sent an evil spy to follow them in an invisible ship.” 

Tony nibbled his biscuit as Rose finished the tale of the bird people from earlier that day.

“And they lived happily ever after. The End.” Rose kissed Tony’s nose. 

"Oh, would you look at that. Fifteen minutes are up, Little Man. Bath time," reminded Pete, who had been watching the domestic scene, whilst sipping his tea. 

"No! I don't want Rose to go! She just got here, and now... now she's leaving again!" The strawberry blonde headed boy lunged off of the countertop at Rose, and she caught him up. He rested his head on her shoulder and cried. "And — and you were gone so long!" 

"Tony sweetheart, I promise, I won't stay away like that ever again, and you can come and stay with me, and see my coffee shop. And we will fly kites on the beach. I'll make you cheesy noodles, and we can have a picnic of fish 'n chips sitting by a real life castle when you visit, yeah?" 

Alec shuffled his feet, then pushed his hands into his pockets. "And... I think... perhaps... I could arrange for you to have a ride in a real police car. How does that sound?" 

Tony lifted his head, then wiped his tears on Rose's shoulder. "Really?" 

"Aye. But only if you are a good lad, and listen to your mother and father, and go upstairs for your bath. Sound fair?" Alec looked at the boy, seriously. 

Tony smiled and nodded. "I'll be a very good boy! Bye Rose! Bye Mr. Policeman!" He slid out of Rose's arms, and grabbed his toy police car. "Bee-doh, bee-doh, bee-doh." Tony ran out of the kitchen, flying the car through the air. 

"I think you may have just made my little boy's year. I'll draw his bath," offered Pete. 

Jackie mouthed, 'Thank you,' to Alec, and then went about the business of assembling biscuits and tea. 

"Could you make two thermoses full of tea? I'll be driving separately," Rose said. 

"Why?" Pete asked, halting in the doorway. 

Rose drew in a quick breath. "I sorta forgot about Tiger until now. He won't fit in Alec's car. He drove his MG Midget. Restored it himself. Oh, Dad you should see it, it's brilliant. You'd love it!" She turned to Alec. "Dad loves old cars. He has this rickety old Jeep thing that—" 

"First of all, it isn't a Jeep _thing_ , it is a Range Rover. Second, it is not rickety, it is very well used. Third, I'd love to see your MG, Inspector, but not in the rain. But Rose, don't worry about driving separately. I'll have your car delivered tomorrow," offered Pete. 

Rose opened her mouth.

"Eh, eh, eh," Pete tutted. "I can already see a protest forming in your mind. Don't argue with me. There's no reason the two of you can't go back to Broadchurch together." 

Rose opened her mouth to speak again, but this time, Jackie interrupted. 

"And why don't you let that brute of yours stay here with us, Sweetheart? He'll be no bother, and we'll bring him back to you when Tony comes for his visit. Tony's been begging for a dog ever since he met Tiger, and the poor skinny thing will remind him of you. Speaking of skinny, don't the two of you ever eat?" 

Pete preemptively struck. "Been a long time since there was a dog in the house," he said loudly, before he winked at Rose. 

Jackie laughed. 

"Don't the two of you get started on Rose the Dog." 

"Don't blame me, Rose. I didn't name her." Pete snatched a biscuit from the platter. 

Jackie slapped Pete's hand as she cackled a laugh, and then barked like a small Terrier. 

Silently, Alec watched the family teasing each other. 

"Then it's settled." Pete left, not giving Rose a chance to argue. "Trucking your Fiat tomorrow, Tony and Tiger coming for Bonfire Night..." 

"Daddy!" Tony hollered from his bathroom. "I can't turn the faucet!" 

Jackie pinched Pete's chin, and kissed him soundly, then they left the kitchen together. 

"Alec, I'm sorry about my family. They always sorta just take over and make all of these arrangements without asking and—“ She shook her head in frustration. "Please don't feel like I’m pressuring you into anything domestic, or pushing you into _anything_ even. I know we're both figuring this out, and-" 

Without warning, Alec tugged her close, cupped her face, and kissed her hard. 

"Oi you two! That can wait! I step out for thirty seconds to get brollies for the two of you so you don't get soaked walking back to the cottage, and you're already snogging! Honestly!" Jackie said, mildly irritated. "Now here's that tea, and some biscuits. Mail the thermos back, please. I like this one. It's old and it keeps tea hot, unlike that new thing I just bought your father to take to work. Now go on, out with you. And promise me you'll ring me when you get it. The roads in this place are awful when it rains. The construction companies on this side don't know the first thing about filling potholes. Ta ra, sweetheart. Remember to ring me when you get home." 

oOo 

Alec drove down the long, winding driveway until he reached the security gate. Automatically, it rolled sideways on its track, releasing them from the confines of the Tyler property. Audibly, he breathed in and out as he pulled onto the road, and headed the car homewards. 

"May I turn on the radio?" Rose asked. 

"Of course." 

She left it on the station to which it was already tuned, and tapped one finger on her thigh to the Beatles tune. 

"Your family is very hands on," said Alec, trying to be diplomatic. 

She looked at him sideways, then snorted a laugh. "That was probably one of the most awkward days of my entire life," admitted Rose. She pinched her lips together and then burst out laughing, breaking the tension. "Hands on. Yeah. Mum especially." She laughed again. "I am so, so sorry she slapped you." 

"She said to ask you about leather and ears. That sounds like a good story, and we do have three hours of road ahead of us." 

"Uh, well, yeah. I was kind of seeing this guy for a while. He always wore this black leather jacket, and his ears were, well, sorta prominent. One time, he brought me home much later than he said he would, so she slapped him. It was a long time ago, and I was young, and well, she was worried that he'd kidnapped me or something. I'd only just met him.” 

"I would have been worried too. It is a parent's worst nightmare, not knowing where their child is, and hoping that the worst hasn't happened." He cleared his throat. 

"You're right," Rose replied quietly. "You'd know that better than most, wouldn't you?" 

Alec nodded. "Aye." He gripped the gear shift knob. 

Rose looked over at him, then lay her hand on top of his, squeezing once. She felt his hand relax. He turned his hand over, and laced his fingers through hers. She rested her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. 

Alec watched her for just a moment before returning his eyes to the road. He wondered how he could have wasted precious two weeks away from her, when they could have been working through their pain and disappointments, together. 

In the few hours he had spent within the Tyler household, he had learned quite a bit about the family that occupied the mansion. The members of this family loved each other, cared, were protective and generous. Jackie, for her humble roots, had not let wealth ruin her. While she may have worn expensive clothing, and a diamond the size of Gibraltar on her ring finger, but there was something grounded about her. She sent tea in a thermos with her husband to work. She washed dishes. Probably bleached her own hair. She was loud, earthy though not uncouth, and authentic — well, except for her bottle blonde hair. Alec chuckled to himself, and shook his head, still reeling from the fact that the woman had slapped him. Without a doubt, Jackie Tyler was completely devoted to her husband, small son, and grown daughter. 

Pete Tyler, once a man of power and influence, had invested the bulk of his fortune, not to gain wealth, but to protect people. He was kind and playful with his son, generous to his stepdaughter, loving and affectionate, and was respectful of his wife. He was clearly financially successful. But while money did buy his family ease and an extremely pleasant lifestyle, money could never buy the true affection that his family had for him. 

And Rose. She had been so at ease with her little brother. And that story about the bird people. He shook his head slightly. Did she just come up with that fantastic tale on her own? There was nothing even vaguely familiar about it. She must have a brilliant, creative mind. His thoughts skipped ahead, and he wondered what sort of a mother she would be. Gentle, kind, devoted? Of course. 

Alec shook himself mentally. They were still fixing their broken relationship, for heaven's sake! But even still, he could not help but think how brilliant it would be to see her waistline swelling, to hear the wailing cries of an infant, and then a child's laughter within the walls of his stone cottage. He decided to think about renovation plans. And then Alec heard the sounds of Rose dialling her mobile. 

"Ellie. Hi. Um, this is Rose." 

_"Why the hell haven't you called me? I've been worried sick about you!"_ Alec could plainly hear Ellie’s voice through the mobile speaker.

"Well..." 

_"Never mind why. Are you doing all right?"_

"I'm good actually. Really good. I'm on my way back home. To Broadchurch, I mean. I'm really sorry I never rang you up after I left." 

_"Yeah, well, you can explain that later. Did Alec show up at your place? Please tell me he did."_

Rose looked over at the driver, who had a smirk on his face. "Yeah, he did." 

Alec thought he heard the smile in her voice, which was confirmed when he saw the upward curve of her lips. 

"We're driving back together, in fact," she said more quietly. "My dad is gonna ship my car to me tomorrow." 

_"You spoiled little rich girl!" Ellie teased._

She laughed. "I am not spoiled, Ellie!" She laughed again. "He's just very generous, and he wanted me and Alec to be able to ride back together." 

_"Your home is empty, so I assume you aren't staying there, unless you have a sleeping bag," said Ellie. "You could stay here if you want. I have a guest room."_

A lump formed in Alec's throat. That was a subject that they had not broached: Rose's sleeping arrangements for the night. 

"I... Uh... My things are still at Alec's place... from, you know, before, when Rowe was on the loose-" 

_"Give your mobile to Alec. I wanna talk to him."_

Rose pinched her lips, and handed it to Alec. 

_"Now listen here, Alec. If she stays with you, which I think she is planning on doing, do yourselves both a favour, and just sleep. Got it?"_

"I refuse to talk about this with you, Baker." He handed the mobile back to Rose. 

Rose snorted a laugh. "See you tomorrow at Zoka? I'm opening up the shop as soon as I can get milk delivered in from Tesco's." 

_"Yes!"_ exclaimed Ellie. _"I hope you never close up again, because I think I have the start of an ulcer from that battery acid that they call coffee at the station."_

Rose ended the call after chatting for a few more minutes, then slid her mobile into her handbag. 

"So where _are_ you staying?" Alec asked after a few miles of silence. 

"I was hoping I could stay with you. If that's all right. or I could check into the inn," she said, "just until my things arrive and my bedroom is reassembled." 

"I was hoping that was your answer."

She squeezed his hand, which she had never released, even through the telephone call. 


	22. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please see chapter one for general notes pertaining to this story.**

_Some Time in the Future_

  
"Good morning, Inspector. What can I get started for you?"  
"Earl Grey tea." 

"You sure you don't want to try the Irish Breakfast? I also have a really gorgeous new green tea with lavender and rose petals." 

"No. Earl Grey is fine," he repeated, unmoved. 

"And will that be for here, or to take away?" she asked as she drew steaming, hot water into a white stoneware teapot, swirling it to preheat the vessel. 

"For here." 

"And would you care for a pastry this morning, Inspector?" she asked, with a sunny smile. 

"No pastry, thank you." He leaned against the counter, casually. 

"I do have something else that's sweet, but it's not on the menu, and I can guarantee that it is on your 'yes' list." 

"And what would that be?" he asked. 

Rose leaned across the counter, and Alec met her halfway for a brief kiss. The simple matching gold bands on their ring fingers glinted under the golden glass pendant lamps, which hung over their heads. 

"What time will you be home tonight?" Rose asked. 

"Barring any emergencies, I should be home early enough for a moonlit picnic in the pavilion." 

"But it's supposed to storm this afternoon," she said, frowning. 

"I'm counting on it. We'll get soaking wet running home in the rain, which will require us to peel of our clothes in the front room, and then take a shower to warm up." 

Rose grinned. "Good plan." She kissed him again, this time, longer and more passionately. 

"Would the two of you stop snogging? I can hear you all the way over here," complained Chloe, looking up from her physics textbook. 

"Um, Alec, I just realised that I am almost out of chocolate. It's up on one of the upper shelves, and I can't reach it. Would you help me?" Rose asked, fingering his navy blue tie. 

"Of course, Mrs. Hardy." 

"Chloe, could you watch the espresso bar for a minute?" Rose asked over her shoulder, towing her husband by the hand. 

"Yeah, whatever. Just shut the door!" 


End file.
